House of Cards
IC Date: Day 25, Month 8, Turn 2, 7th Pass
Players: D'ven, Imari
Location: Living Cavern
Synopsis: Two late night people meet up and talk. D'ven finds out it was Imari who embroidered the new patch for his jacket, and Imari offers to listen if the bronzerider needs to just talk things out.
Living Cavern,
Around Midnight
Large enough to hold the majority of the Weyr's human population, this cavern can become loud enough to deafen thanks to the acoustics caused by its size. The ceiling is so far overhead that it's cast into shadow, a darkness that is broken only by the spark and glitter of a lucky beam of light striking the minerals found in the rock walls. Below, most of the floor is covered with an assortment of long tables and benches. There are some smaller tables, surrounded by chairs, but privacy appears to be a rare thing in this bustling cavern. Large hearths line the west wall, with fires burning day and night to warm the food and drink that keep the Weyr's inhabitants fueled. The serving tables are near the hearth, opposite the dais that holds the single table reserved for the Weyr leadership and honored guests.
It's early morning, and there are very few people about. D'ven is one such, however, sitting in a chair staring into the mid-distance. He's clearly awake, though currently off in his thoughts. There's a cup of klah in front of him he's persuaded someone to rustle up, slowly going cold.
Early morning is a quiet time for work, and Imari often takes advantage of these hours to finish up mending, or in this case, work on projects she does for others. She carries a small basket over her arm, and makes her way to the klah pot, sighing when she sees it's nearly empty. Still, a little klah is better than none, so she chooses a mug, pours what's there, and heads over toward the hearth. On her way, she passes one of the few other people still up and about, recognizing him as the Wingsecond from Three-C. A polite nod of her head as she steps past where he sits, a respectful,
"Evening, sir," and then to the hearth. Only a small piece of hide catches flight, landing on the floor near where D'ven sits. Apparently not noting the errant sketch -- four dragon poker aces -- the seamstress continues on her way. Sitting down, she pulls work from her basket, another embroidery project from the looks of things.
D'ven blinks several times, shaking his head. "Mmmm? Oh, evening." He replies, managing a smile as he pulls himself out of his thoughts. He does notice the sketch, as it lands near him. Picking it up, the man frowns thoughtfully at it. "I've only seen a sketch like this one before, and I ended up wearing the result of that. I'm guessing the same is true of this one, hmm?"
But Imari is past where he's sitting, and only barely hears the question. Turning in his direction, she tilts her head to the side, leaning slightly forward. "I'm sorry, sir, did you say something?" is asked in a quiet kind of voice, although with the lack of people, it's easily heard. "Oh, did I drop that?" she then queries, and sets aside her work to approach the bronzerider. "Thank you for picking it up, sir. I didn't realize it had fallen from my basket."
"I was more sort of thinking outloud." D'ven replies with a half-smile, handing the sketch over. "Yes, it dropped as you were passing by me. It's very good...may I ask who you did it for?"
Imari accepts the sketch back from D'ven, holding it in one hand while the other brushes a speck of dust from the drawing. "It was for an embroidery project I did for someone," she explains, then looks at him, chuckling. "/That/ embroidery project, so it would seem," she says, nodding at his jacket. "Apparently, it was for you, sir." She doesn't seem to catch his meaning, at least not at first. "Oh. You mean who requested it of me?" The seamstress smiles, but shakes her head. "I was contacted through someone in the laundry, sir. There was a note describing what was wanted, and a mark. No name, but I was told to leave it at the Infirmary, if that helps?" She admires the patch. "I hope it was suitable? I'd never tried to do cards before."
D'ven blinks several times, finally laughing and shaking his head. "Wow, they really did try to make sure they wouldn't be found out." There's a thoughtful smile. "And yes, the Infirmary helps. I think it gives me a fairly good idea." There's a nod. "Yes, very suitable. It's very well done."
A small curtsey is bobbed to the rider. "Thank you, sir," Imari says, smiling widely. "It looks good on the jacket. Am I to assume it's like a good luck charm?" she inquires, her eyes moving to his face now. "And perhaps a little late, but welcome to High Reaches. You're in Three-C, correct?"
"It's everything and nothing." D'ven replies with a nostalgic smile. "It's a personal emblemn, in a sense. But yes, part of it is luck." There's a pause. "Thank you. And yes, I am. Under Wingleader Br'ce."
There's a flicker of something in Imari's eyes. "I've never met him, but I knew someone in Three-C," she says, voice softer now. "Back before --" A pause. "D'ban." As if the name might mean something to her. "You wouldn't know him, likely. He was lost during that bad fall, a long time ago, now." A pause. "I'm glad to see the wing active again, and I've heard good things about Wingleader Br'ce."
"Ah. I'm sorry to hear that." D'ven replies softly. "And yes, he's a very good man. Things...are going well, on that score." There's a pause. "Sorry, I should introduce myself. D'ven, of bronze Teraneth." And a hand is held out.
"Well met, sir," she replies. "Imari, of Mountains of Mending," is her answer to his introduction. "Most people just call me Immie, though. I have seen you before, and had you pointed out to me by a few of the lower caverns girls." And there's a twitch of her lips as she remembers /which/ girl it was. "You're from Benden, originally?"
D'ven laughs at the comment about the mountains. "Well, I flatter myself that I'm well thought of in the lower caverns. Something wrong?" He asks, at the twitch. "And I Impressed at Benden, yes. But I was born in Bitra, and I've been to other places."
"Oh, nothing wrong, really," Imari says, chuckling. "I was just thinking of who it was who pointed you out, is all. She's very popular with the riders," the girl replies, and from the expression of amusement in her eyes, she knows /why/ this particular girl would be popular. "I was actually mistaken for her, once. From the back. Our hair is about the same color and length, though that's where the similarity ends." She nods to the rest of what D'ven says. "I've been to Weaver Hall in Boll, but other than there, I've lived here all my life."
"Ahh." D'ven replies with a grin. "Well, I know several girls like that." There's a pause. "Besides here, Benden Weyr, and Bitra, the only other two places I've spent significent amounts of time are Benden Hold and the Vinter Hall."
Imari nods. "Holds and Halls are much different that weyrs," she says, a matter of fact statement. "I wasn't very happy at the hall, and I didn't have all the ambition others had. So, I left after a few turns." She gives a shrug. "Would you like me to see if there's more klah in the kitchen? It looks like yours is cold, and I guess mine is, too, now." And she holds out a hand for the mug. "And, to set your mind at ease, I've heard nothing bad about you from the girls. Most of them speak very highly of your skills as a rider." There's that twinkle of amusement in her eyes again.
D'ven shakes his head. "Thank you for the offer, but I'll be fine. I guess I didn't really want any to begin with." At her comment, he grins. "Thank you, it's good to know that. Definetly puts my mind at ease."
Imari nods, lowering her hand and studies the rider. "Is everything all right, sir? You seem a little distracted when I passed earlier." She'd noticed, apparently, that he was lost in his thoughts. "I'm not trying to pry, but I'm told I'm a good listener, if someone needs to talk." There's kindness in her tone, and it doesn't seem like she'll be offended if he refuses. "Sometimes things can make more sense when spoken aloud than when just thought about."
"Thank you, but I've already spoken aloud several times." D'ven replies with a small smile. "Now I'm the period where I need to speak inside a lot, and eventually I'll figure things out with myself." He shifts in his chair, stretching slightly. "I do appreciate the offer, though."
Another nod, and a smile. "Anytime, sir," she says. "I hear enough gossip down in the lower caverns, so I probably have a good idea what's on your mind," she adds. "Mind if I join you -- or would you prefer to be alone? I don't take offense easily, and I can understand the need for just being alone with your thoughts sometimes." She makes no move to sit, though, unless D'ven agrees.
D'ven gestures at the chair. "Please, feel free to sit." There's a thoughtful pause, and then he smiles. His tone is slightly wary in an 'I might regret asking, but...' sense. "So...tell me, if you don't mind, what you think is on my mind?"
She takes a chair and moves it slightly out from the table, sitting to the side so she can face him. "Well, it's not hard to hear about all the trial and things like that," Imari replies. "And, that knot tells me that your dragon could make you the next Weyrleader." She shrugs one shoulder. "Man's got to think hard on something like that, especially here at High Reaches." The words are softly spoken, and her expression is understanding. "D'ban rode brown, so thankfully, he would never've had to worry about that. Bronzers? -- it's always gotta be in the back of a rider's mind."
"Well, I'm not saying that's all there is to it, but you're pretty good." D'ven admits with a half-smile. "And what about you, Imari? Anything on your mind right now?"
"Nothing of importance, sir," is the soft reply. "Perhaps a little concern over what I keep hearing, and maybe a little nostalgia at meeting someone from D'ban's wing, but I try to not think too much on either," she explains, shrugging again. "I'm just a seamstress, and as long as I do my work, no one comes looking for me to make important decisions. My life's a lot simpler than yours, I'd warrant." She chuckles softly. "People talk to me a lot, but I don't say much. It's not my place to speculate on things, really. I'm pleasantly surprised when things go well, and sad when they don't. That's about it."
D'ven looks thoughtful for a moment. "You'd be amazed, actually, how simple mine is sometimes...even when it's really complicated." There's a half smile.
"Possibly -- that I'd be amazed," Imari says, her smile still in place. "But, then, I'm just a seamstress," she adds, affecting a vapid, wide-eyed expression, "and you're a bronzerider." Obviously, she's mimicking some of the girls in the cavern, a teasing kind of mimicry that's really rather funny. "Simple things are easy to get complicated, at times. All they need is one or two variations and a couple of surprises, and they're not so simple anymore."
D'ven laughs at the impersonation. "You're right there. It's much harder to get the complicated things to be simple. But, I'm working on it." There's a pause. "Definetly working on it."
"I wish you luck of that," Imari says, her tone sounding genuine. "It's a failing of people to complicate the simple things, sometimes without either to, sometimes deliberately. Most of the time, they don't even realize they've brought the complications on themselves." She toys with the drawing a moment. "Luck has a lot to do with things. Being in the right place at the right time, or, conversely, the right place at the wrong time. You just have to learn how to roll with the punches, I guess." She pauses. "Either that, or worry yourself to death over things you can't change."
"Sometimes you can even be in the wrong place at the right time." D'ven notes with a wry twist of his lips. Then he falls silent, considering the latter words. "I often find myself doing both at once." He finally admits.
Imari nods, reaching over to pat his hand. "That happens to a lot of us, sir," she says, the tone of her voice comforting. "None of us can see the future, or knows what it will bring. Sometimes what feels like the right place and the right time, isn't. So, we can't exactly blame ourselves when things get out of hand, or complicated. We kind of have to just ... roll with it. Do the best we can with the knowledge we have, the skills we have."
D'ven nods, not seeming to mind the pat to his hand. "Not exactly true. There are times when we can definetly blame ourselves, because it's our fault." There's a soft laugh then. "And that's another thing. Sometimes people see skills in you that you don't see for yourself. And then you have to decide whether to make the leap blind, trusting that they're right, or hang back because you don't believe you can do what they think you can. For some reason, that always upsets people."
Her brow creases in thought as Imari considers what he's just said. "Well, yes, that's certainly true, as well," she finally says, pursing her lips a moment. "But, the opposite is also true. People can't see what you really can do, and just assume you can't. Then you have to make that same decision, only in the reverse. Do you prove them wrong by being able to do what they think you can't, or do you betray yourself and pretend to be less than you really are?" There's a lift of her shoulder, and a partial smile. "Then there are those of us who really can't do much of anything."
"Everyone can do something." D'ven replies with a shake of his head. "Everyone has at least one thing they can do. The problem is, so few people actually believe it. And often doing it requires belief. So they go through life never actually realising it."
Again considering what D'ven says. Quiet. Thoughtful. "So, are you saying everyone has something they can do, maybe better than someone else can do that one thing? That, say, because I can embroider well, I should believe in that one thing and accept it?" She thinks on this a moment. "Well, I can see that, yes, but isn't it also the importance of what a person can do that's the telling factor? Embroidery won't feed people, or heal them, or do much of anything except look pretty. I can't farm, or cook, or heal. I sew, and that's about all. Where does that fit into the grand scheme of things?" It's not really a complaint, she seems to be just saying what she thinks here.
D'ven smiles. "You just sew." He echoes with a nod. "Well, let's say we didn't have anybody who sewed. Let's say that we riders had to do all our own sewing. That's time away from drills. Now imagine if we didn't have anybody who did laundry, or the like. The more people who little things we remove from the equation, the less time riders are spending on drills. As a result, riders are dying more often in fall. We're not as effective in our cover. Perhaps eventually riders die faster than we can replace them. We have huge holes in our coverage. The crops die, and the Holds can no longer feed all of their people." There's a pause. "Or, we can look at it from the point of view of people having their time taken away from tending to crops at the Holds. So the tithes get smaller. So we have problems supporting ourselves. We have to put time into getting alternative sources of food. So we do less drills....and so it goes. Everyone contributes. It's like a house of cards."
This, too, is listened to, comprehended. "You have a gift for explaining things, sir," Imari replies, and her smile is soft as she nods. "A house of cards," she muses, eyes drifting to the aces on his sleeve. "Perhaps a very apt comparison in so many ways. I've never been able to build one of those without it collapsing. I've been told the trick is to build a solid foundation, then stack the cards atop it. What you say sounds like we have a solid foundation, and only if the wrong cards are removed will it collapse. Yet, there are so many cards in the weyr which are on less than a solid foundation." She pauses. "Tell me, bronzerider, what is it you, as a rider, want most? To simply know that all the supports are there? Or is it the uppermost structure that concerns you?"
"What I want most?" D'ven laughs, without much humor. "I want to go back." He finally admits. "There was a time when the house of cards was steady and well founded. Then people decided they wanted to build a different one. So they tried to remove the top-most cards, while also trying to take cards out from lower down and put them at the top. And so bit by bit it fell apart, and plenty of the lower cards got crushed because it was collapsing onto them." There's a sigh. "What I want most is to go back. But since I can't, I'll just have to hope we can rebuild the old house. Everything in its proper place, that's what concerns me. The supports being there, and the uppermost structure being as it should."
Imari nods again when D'ven finishes. "Going back would be nice, but we don't have that ability. Hindsight can be very acute. Given the choice, I think many of us would like to go back knowing what we know now. It would make things easier. We'd know our mistakes and avoid them, protect those we care about from being hurt, many things." There's a touch of sorrow in those words. "So many of us don't know how to help rebuild the house, so we just keep doing what it is we're doing now. Some make the same mistakes over and over, and never know they're making things worse, not keeping up the status quo."
D'ven taps his fingers on the table thoughtfully. "It's not time to rebuild quite yet. Soon, very soon, but not yet. Can't build a house of cards in a breeze, and this breeze hasn't died down yet. And when it's time, people'll know what to do. They've managed fine for a long time, after all, till the breezes whipped up." There's a thoughtful smile. "I should go. But thank you for letting me talk. It's been...useful. Got a few things straightened out in my head."
"Anytime, sir," Imari says, nodding. "And I'm glad the aces pleased you," she adds, smiling. "Don't worry about the things you can't fix, sir. That will make you doubt yourself. Better to do what you /know/ you can do. Fix what you can, /when/ you can, and find others who know the other things that need doing." She rises, offering a light touch to his shoulder. "Just don't take on more than one thing at a time. The longest journey, after all, begins with the first step." Another smile, and then she's turning away, picking up the small sketch, and making her way back across to the hearth. "Clear skies, sir. If you ever want to talk again, just look for me. I'll listen."
"Thank you, and likewise." D'ven smiles, before shaking his head. "We've been on our journeys since the day we were born. Sometimes it just takes a long time before it gets light enough to see the road we're walking on and get an idea of where we're going." And then he's standing and gone, making his way towards the outside world./lj-cut>
Players: D'ven, Imari
Location: Living Cavern
Synopsis: Two late night people meet up and talk. D'ven finds out it was Imari who embroidered the new patch for his jacket, and Imari offers to listen if the bronzerider needs to just talk things out.
Living Cavern,
Around Midnight
Large enough to hold the majority of the Weyr's human population, this cavern can become loud enough to deafen thanks to the acoustics caused by its size. The ceiling is so far overhead that it's cast into shadow, a darkness that is broken only by the spark and glitter of a lucky beam of light striking the minerals found in the rock walls. Below, most of the floor is covered with an assortment of long tables and benches. There are some smaller tables, surrounded by chairs, but privacy appears to be a rare thing in this bustling cavern. Large hearths line the west wall, with fires burning day and night to warm the food and drink that keep the Weyr's inhabitants fueled. The serving tables are near the hearth, opposite the dais that holds the single table reserved for the Weyr leadership and honored guests.
It's early morning, and there are very few people about. D'ven is one such, however, sitting in a chair staring into the mid-distance. He's clearly awake, though currently off in his thoughts. There's a cup of klah in front of him he's persuaded someone to rustle up, slowly going cold.
Early morning is a quiet time for work, and Imari often takes advantage of these hours to finish up mending, or in this case, work on projects she does for others. She carries a small basket over her arm, and makes her way to the klah pot, sighing when she sees it's nearly empty. Still, a little klah is better than none, so she chooses a mug, pours what's there, and heads over toward the hearth. On her way, she passes one of the few other people still up and about, recognizing him as the Wingsecond from Three-C. A polite nod of her head as she steps past where he sits, a respectful,
"Evening, sir," and then to the hearth. Only a small piece of hide catches flight, landing on the floor near where D'ven sits. Apparently not noting the errant sketch -- four dragon poker aces -- the seamstress continues on her way. Sitting down, she pulls work from her basket, another embroidery project from the looks of things.
D'ven blinks several times, shaking his head. "Mmmm? Oh, evening." He replies, managing a smile as he pulls himself out of his thoughts. He does notice the sketch, as it lands near him. Picking it up, the man frowns thoughtfully at it. "I've only seen a sketch like this one before, and I ended up wearing the result of that. I'm guessing the same is true of this one, hmm?"
But Imari is past where he's sitting, and only barely hears the question. Turning in his direction, she tilts her head to the side, leaning slightly forward. "I'm sorry, sir, did you say something?" is asked in a quiet kind of voice, although with the lack of people, it's easily heard. "Oh, did I drop that?" she then queries, and sets aside her work to approach the bronzerider. "Thank you for picking it up, sir. I didn't realize it had fallen from my basket."
"I was more sort of thinking outloud." D'ven replies with a half-smile, handing the sketch over. "Yes, it dropped as you were passing by me. It's very good...may I ask who you did it for?"
Imari accepts the sketch back from D'ven, holding it in one hand while the other brushes a speck of dust from the drawing. "It was for an embroidery project I did for someone," she explains, then looks at him, chuckling. "/That/ embroidery project, so it would seem," she says, nodding at his jacket. "Apparently, it was for you, sir." She doesn't seem to catch his meaning, at least not at first. "Oh. You mean who requested it of me?" The seamstress smiles, but shakes her head. "I was contacted through someone in the laundry, sir. There was a note describing what was wanted, and a mark. No name, but I was told to leave it at the Infirmary, if that helps?" She admires the patch. "I hope it was suitable? I'd never tried to do cards before."
D'ven blinks several times, finally laughing and shaking his head. "Wow, they really did try to make sure they wouldn't be found out." There's a thoughtful smile. "And yes, the Infirmary helps. I think it gives me a fairly good idea." There's a nod. "Yes, very suitable. It's very well done."
A small curtsey is bobbed to the rider. "Thank you, sir," Imari says, smiling widely. "It looks good on the jacket. Am I to assume it's like a good luck charm?" she inquires, her eyes moving to his face now. "And perhaps a little late, but welcome to High Reaches. You're in Three-C, correct?"
"It's everything and nothing." D'ven replies with a nostalgic smile. "It's a personal emblemn, in a sense. But yes, part of it is luck." There's a pause. "Thank you. And yes, I am. Under Wingleader Br'ce."
There's a flicker of something in Imari's eyes. "I've never met him, but I knew someone in Three-C," she says, voice softer now. "Back before --" A pause. "D'ban." As if the name might mean something to her. "You wouldn't know him, likely. He was lost during that bad fall, a long time ago, now." A pause. "I'm glad to see the wing active again, and I've heard good things about Wingleader Br'ce."
"Ah. I'm sorry to hear that." D'ven replies softly. "And yes, he's a very good man. Things...are going well, on that score." There's a pause. "Sorry, I should introduce myself. D'ven, of bronze Teraneth." And a hand is held out.
"Well met, sir," she replies. "Imari, of Mountains of Mending," is her answer to his introduction. "Most people just call me Immie, though. I have seen you before, and had you pointed out to me by a few of the lower caverns girls." And there's a twitch of her lips as she remembers /which/ girl it was. "You're from Benden, originally?"
D'ven laughs at the comment about the mountains. "Well, I flatter myself that I'm well thought of in the lower caverns. Something wrong?" He asks, at the twitch. "And I Impressed at Benden, yes. But I was born in Bitra, and I've been to other places."
"Oh, nothing wrong, really," Imari says, chuckling. "I was just thinking of who it was who pointed you out, is all. She's very popular with the riders," the girl replies, and from the expression of amusement in her eyes, she knows /why/ this particular girl would be popular. "I was actually mistaken for her, once. From the back. Our hair is about the same color and length, though that's where the similarity ends." She nods to the rest of what D'ven says. "I've been to Weaver Hall in Boll, but other than there, I've lived here all my life."
"Ahh." D'ven replies with a grin. "Well, I know several girls like that." There's a pause. "Besides here, Benden Weyr, and Bitra, the only other two places I've spent significent amounts of time are Benden Hold and the Vinter Hall."
Imari nods. "Holds and Halls are much different that weyrs," she says, a matter of fact statement. "I wasn't very happy at the hall, and I didn't have all the ambition others had. So, I left after a few turns." She gives a shrug. "Would you like me to see if there's more klah in the kitchen? It looks like yours is cold, and I guess mine is, too, now." And she holds out a hand for the mug. "And, to set your mind at ease, I've heard nothing bad about you from the girls. Most of them speak very highly of your skills as a rider." There's that twinkle of amusement in her eyes again.
D'ven shakes his head. "Thank you for the offer, but I'll be fine. I guess I didn't really want any to begin with." At her comment, he grins. "Thank you, it's good to know that. Definetly puts my mind at ease."
Imari nods, lowering her hand and studies the rider. "Is everything all right, sir? You seem a little distracted when I passed earlier." She'd noticed, apparently, that he was lost in his thoughts. "I'm not trying to pry, but I'm told I'm a good listener, if someone needs to talk." There's kindness in her tone, and it doesn't seem like she'll be offended if he refuses. "Sometimes things can make more sense when spoken aloud than when just thought about."
"Thank you, but I've already spoken aloud several times." D'ven replies with a small smile. "Now I'm the period where I need to speak inside a lot, and eventually I'll figure things out with myself." He shifts in his chair, stretching slightly. "I do appreciate the offer, though."
Another nod, and a smile. "Anytime, sir," she says. "I hear enough gossip down in the lower caverns, so I probably have a good idea what's on your mind," she adds. "Mind if I join you -- or would you prefer to be alone? I don't take offense easily, and I can understand the need for just being alone with your thoughts sometimes." She makes no move to sit, though, unless D'ven agrees.
D'ven gestures at the chair. "Please, feel free to sit." There's a thoughtful pause, and then he smiles. His tone is slightly wary in an 'I might regret asking, but...' sense. "So...tell me, if you don't mind, what you think is on my mind?"
She takes a chair and moves it slightly out from the table, sitting to the side so she can face him. "Well, it's not hard to hear about all the trial and things like that," Imari replies. "And, that knot tells me that your dragon could make you the next Weyrleader." She shrugs one shoulder. "Man's got to think hard on something like that, especially here at High Reaches." The words are softly spoken, and her expression is understanding. "D'ban rode brown, so thankfully, he would never've had to worry about that. Bronzers? -- it's always gotta be in the back of a rider's mind."
"Well, I'm not saying that's all there is to it, but you're pretty good." D'ven admits with a half-smile. "And what about you, Imari? Anything on your mind right now?"
"Nothing of importance, sir," is the soft reply. "Perhaps a little concern over what I keep hearing, and maybe a little nostalgia at meeting someone from D'ban's wing, but I try to not think too much on either," she explains, shrugging again. "I'm just a seamstress, and as long as I do my work, no one comes looking for me to make important decisions. My life's a lot simpler than yours, I'd warrant." She chuckles softly. "People talk to me a lot, but I don't say much. It's not my place to speculate on things, really. I'm pleasantly surprised when things go well, and sad when they don't. That's about it."
D'ven looks thoughtful for a moment. "You'd be amazed, actually, how simple mine is sometimes...even when it's really complicated." There's a half smile.
"Possibly -- that I'd be amazed," Imari says, her smile still in place. "But, then, I'm just a seamstress," she adds, affecting a vapid, wide-eyed expression, "and you're a bronzerider." Obviously, she's mimicking some of the girls in the cavern, a teasing kind of mimicry that's really rather funny. "Simple things are easy to get complicated, at times. All they need is one or two variations and a couple of surprises, and they're not so simple anymore."
D'ven laughs at the impersonation. "You're right there. It's much harder to get the complicated things to be simple. But, I'm working on it." There's a pause. "Definetly working on it."
"I wish you luck of that," Imari says, her tone sounding genuine. "It's a failing of people to complicate the simple things, sometimes without either to, sometimes deliberately. Most of the time, they don't even realize they've brought the complications on themselves." She toys with the drawing a moment. "Luck has a lot to do with things. Being in the right place at the right time, or, conversely, the right place at the wrong time. You just have to learn how to roll with the punches, I guess." She pauses. "Either that, or worry yourself to death over things you can't change."
"Sometimes you can even be in the wrong place at the right time." D'ven notes with a wry twist of his lips. Then he falls silent, considering the latter words. "I often find myself doing both at once." He finally admits.
Imari nods, reaching over to pat his hand. "That happens to a lot of us, sir," she says, the tone of her voice comforting. "None of us can see the future, or knows what it will bring. Sometimes what feels like the right place and the right time, isn't. So, we can't exactly blame ourselves when things get out of hand, or complicated. We kind of have to just ... roll with it. Do the best we can with the knowledge we have, the skills we have."
D'ven nods, not seeming to mind the pat to his hand. "Not exactly true. There are times when we can definetly blame ourselves, because it's our fault." There's a soft laugh then. "And that's another thing. Sometimes people see skills in you that you don't see for yourself. And then you have to decide whether to make the leap blind, trusting that they're right, or hang back because you don't believe you can do what they think you can. For some reason, that always upsets people."
Her brow creases in thought as Imari considers what he's just said. "Well, yes, that's certainly true, as well," she finally says, pursing her lips a moment. "But, the opposite is also true. People can't see what you really can do, and just assume you can't. Then you have to make that same decision, only in the reverse. Do you prove them wrong by being able to do what they think you can't, or do you betray yourself and pretend to be less than you really are?" There's a lift of her shoulder, and a partial smile. "Then there are those of us who really can't do much of anything."
"Everyone can do something." D'ven replies with a shake of his head. "Everyone has at least one thing they can do. The problem is, so few people actually believe it. And often doing it requires belief. So they go through life never actually realising it."
Again considering what D'ven says. Quiet. Thoughtful. "So, are you saying everyone has something they can do, maybe better than someone else can do that one thing? That, say, because I can embroider well, I should believe in that one thing and accept it?" She thinks on this a moment. "Well, I can see that, yes, but isn't it also the importance of what a person can do that's the telling factor? Embroidery won't feed people, or heal them, or do much of anything except look pretty. I can't farm, or cook, or heal. I sew, and that's about all. Where does that fit into the grand scheme of things?" It's not really a complaint, she seems to be just saying what she thinks here.
D'ven smiles. "You just sew." He echoes with a nod. "Well, let's say we didn't have anybody who sewed. Let's say that we riders had to do all our own sewing. That's time away from drills. Now imagine if we didn't have anybody who did laundry, or the like. The more people who little things we remove from the equation, the less time riders are spending on drills. As a result, riders are dying more often in fall. We're not as effective in our cover. Perhaps eventually riders die faster than we can replace them. We have huge holes in our coverage. The crops die, and the Holds can no longer feed all of their people." There's a pause. "Or, we can look at it from the point of view of people having their time taken away from tending to crops at the Holds. So the tithes get smaller. So we have problems supporting ourselves. We have to put time into getting alternative sources of food. So we do less drills....and so it goes. Everyone contributes. It's like a house of cards."
This, too, is listened to, comprehended. "You have a gift for explaining things, sir," Imari replies, and her smile is soft as she nods. "A house of cards," she muses, eyes drifting to the aces on his sleeve. "Perhaps a very apt comparison in so many ways. I've never been able to build one of those without it collapsing. I've been told the trick is to build a solid foundation, then stack the cards atop it. What you say sounds like we have a solid foundation, and only if the wrong cards are removed will it collapse. Yet, there are so many cards in the weyr which are on less than a solid foundation." She pauses. "Tell me, bronzerider, what is it you, as a rider, want most? To simply know that all the supports are there? Or is it the uppermost structure that concerns you?"
"What I want most?" D'ven laughs, without much humor. "I want to go back." He finally admits. "There was a time when the house of cards was steady and well founded. Then people decided they wanted to build a different one. So they tried to remove the top-most cards, while also trying to take cards out from lower down and put them at the top. And so bit by bit it fell apart, and plenty of the lower cards got crushed because it was collapsing onto them." There's a sigh. "What I want most is to go back. But since I can't, I'll just have to hope we can rebuild the old house. Everything in its proper place, that's what concerns me. The supports being there, and the uppermost structure being as it should."
Imari nods again when D'ven finishes. "Going back would be nice, but we don't have that ability. Hindsight can be very acute. Given the choice, I think many of us would like to go back knowing what we know now. It would make things easier. We'd know our mistakes and avoid them, protect those we care about from being hurt, many things." There's a touch of sorrow in those words. "So many of us don't know how to help rebuild the house, so we just keep doing what it is we're doing now. Some make the same mistakes over and over, and never know they're making things worse, not keeping up the status quo."
D'ven taps his fingers on the table thoughtfully. "It's not time to rebuild quite yet. Soon, very soon, but not yet. Can't build a house of cards in a breeze, and this breeze hasn't died down yet. And when it's time, people'll know what to do. They've managed fine for a long time, after all, till the breezes whipped up." There's a thoughtful smile. "I should go. But thank you for letting me talk. It's been...useful. Got a few things straightened out in my head."
"Anytime, sir," Imari says, nodding. "And I'm glad the aces pleased you," she adds, smiling. "Don't worry about the things you can't fix, sir. That will make you doubt yourself. Better to do what you /know/ you can do. Fix what you can, /when/ you can, and find others who know the other things that need doing." She rises, offering a light touch to his shoulder. "Just don't take on more than one thing at a time. The longest journey, after all, begins with the first step." Another smile, and then she's turning away, picking up the small sketch, and making her way back across to the hearth. "Clear skies, sir. If you ever want to talk again, just look for me. I'll listen."
"Thank you, and likewise." D'ven smiles, before shaking his head. "We've been on our journeys since the day we were born. Sometimes it just takes a long time before it gets light enough to see the road we're walking on and get an idea of where we're going." And then he's standing and gone, making his way towards the outside world./lj-cut>