When the chips are down
Who: Lexine, Yevide
When: Day 19, month 3, turn 1 of the 7th Pass
Where: Stores
What: The Igen goldrider approaches High Reaches' senior to discuss future possibilities and suffers the sharp side of Lexine's tongue instead. (Warning: Log contains information that is not public knowledge at this time. If you think your character would have reason to know what takes place in this log, please page Lexine and Yevide to work out the details OOCly.)
It is 19:25 on day 19, month 3, turn 1 of the 7th Pass.
It is currently early spring. The only word to describe a spring day such as this one is soggy. Rain falls in a constant shower of silver from the skies above, sometimes retreating into a misty drizzle, sometimes strengthening into a downpour that threatens to soak anyone who ventures outside.
You head into the Weyr's stores.
Stores
Upon entering this immense cavern, the nose is assaulted with a miasma of scents-- spices and old hides and stored clothing and dry goods and an older musty smell that is likely linked to dust and the inevitable decay that strikes any storage cavern. While the Weyr does follow a strict organizational system that ensures that like is stored with or near like, it's still possible to lose one's self here without a solid knowledge of the shelves' layout. These shelves are impressive, too. They rise from floor to shadowed ceiling, wall to distant wall, separated by wide aisles that hold carts and ladders for the fetching and transportation of required goods. Two tunnels exit this cavern. The first is a short tunnel that leads to the upper caverns. The second, much longer, takes a person directly to the kitchens.
Kitchens (K) Upper Caverns (UC)
Some jobs of a senior weyrwoman are glamorous. There's leading the queens wing in Threadfall, the emotional high of a flight, the pride of knowing that you were part of bringing new dragonpairs in to the world, the pomp and circumstance of wearing gowns and other such things at Gathers and rubbing elbows with the high and mighty of Pern. Some jobs are less glamorous. It's one of the latter category that holds the Weyrwoman's attention now, a careful inventory of the items in stores being conducted for calculating the spring round of tithes. For once, there's no horde of drudges or secretaries running about. Instead, Lexine is taking her time, moving from row to row as she counts the items on the shelves.
Lexine
At sixty turns - too old for pretty - Lexine still merits the description of striking. Pale blonde hair, the shade of good champagne now shot through with as much white as blonde, is cut short save for the longer silk-fine bangs that fall around sharp features, brushing at a cleanly angled jaw and austere, chiseled cheekbones. Angular eyes of a startling bright and clear green are framed by deep crow's feet at the corners, wrinkles creeping towards her cheekbones with each new turn. Otherwise, she seems to have only grown more polished with age, skin growing thin and pulling tight over already sharp features. Her lips are thin, though pleasantly curved, suited to smirks and quiet, secret smiles as sharp as the line of a sloped nose.
Always slender at five feet and five inches tall, that very slightness has been forgiving as she has aged, keeping her from drooping or sagging too much. There's still the wiry strength of a veteran dragonrider in her arms and legs, though aching joints make movements once graceful now a little more stately. She wears simple, elegant clothes suited to High Reaches, a soft sweater of burgundy cashmere wool woven in the pattern of Tillek's Blood belted over a warm, dark grey wool skirt. Close-fitting breeches of black suede fit beneath the skirt, and the knot of the High Reaches senior Weyrwoman rests on her shoulder.
Privacy is a rare thing when one leads. Interruption comes in the form of two sets of footsteps and there is too much determination in the second set to think that their owners might be content to pass on and leave the Weyrwoman to her inventory. One of the stores' assistants rounds the corner first with Yevide fast on her heels. The girl looks nervous while the goldrider approaches something that could be described as pleased. "As you said she would be! Thank you." A gesture summarily dismisses the assistant and she's ignore after while the Igen junior closes on the Reaches senior. "You missed it, Weyrwoman. I saw a sunbeam threaten earlier and thought...ah! I must share this with someone, surely they're hungry for news of the sun. And where do I find you? I..." Blue eyes are drawn to one of the neat labels affixed to the nearest shelf. "Here now, I really will have to take notes on your organizational system...Arinya never much cared to pay attention to this sort of thing."
"Arinya is a sweet girl," Lexine muses, stepping down one shelf with a forgiving smile and nod towards the assistant before turning back to the shelves and the hide in her hands. "Well-suited to running a Weyr during a Pass, I always thought. But not one for details, I imagine. Lucky for her to have someone like you around, Yevide," she concludes, looking up with another political smile. "Though I do wonder how they do without you."
"She is truly incredible, in the air." Yevide doesn't begrudge the absent woman her due; the compliment is full and rich and given with a smile that is in turn both fond and amused. The latter appears to be directed towards the present woman and rolls into a chuckle only after she meets Lexine's eyes. "You'd think they would feel my absence, wouldn't you? But no. There is always someone younger and brighter to step into one's shoes. Even before they're vacated, in some cases. Would you like a hand, Lexine?"
"Ah, but youth is no replacement for experience when..." Lexine pauses, tilting her head slightly as she reaches up to count jars of spice. "How do they say it in Bitra?" she asks affectedly, clearly aware of just what they say. "When the chips are down, that's it. I would think Arinya would be aware of that. She always struck me as a sight more intelligent than Kalinda. And unafraid to make use of those with an ability she lacked. Ruthlessness. A valuable trait in a weyrwoman."
Yevide clasps her hands behind her back and paces around to the other side of the goldrider. Her chin has been lifted to allow her to regard those same jars but there's a lack of focus in her eyes that suggests her mind is elsewhere. "Perhaps Arinya believes that there is experience enough in Igen. She is after all senior in every way to myself." A sigh takes the desert woman's breath and colors her smile with wry humor. "Do you think she lacks ruthlessness then? Or perhaps I misunderstand. It wouldn't be the first time. Still...I wouldn't put such a trait beyond her. She's had her moments. As have we all, I think. As you say...it's valuable and common enough among our kind."
Lexine makes a mark on the hide in her hands, stepping around the younger goldrider in order to continue her inventory. "I've found her to be a perceptive girl as well," she continues easily. "No doubt she's done what's best for her weyr by sending you away to us," she concludes as she looks over with another knife-edged smile. "Was there something you wished to speak with me about, Yevide? Beyond the arrival of a sunbeam and the qualities of your weyrwoman?"
"Were that her decision, Weyrwoman, I would very much have cause to be concerned for her good opinion of me." And that, Yevide's suddenly pensive expression suggests, would be a sad thing indeed. "But after seventeen turns of good service to my Weyr, I think I've earned the opportunity for a choice of my own. And that is actually what brought me here." She turns to follow after the senior and indulges in a few second's silent before finding the words-- and the sunshine-- for a brighter reply. "Question me, question my motives, question whether I tell the truth, Lexine, and I'll see no insult in it. But please, don't offer up insult to the sun's return. It's time for winter to be cleared away. I'm here to ask you if you would do me the honor of allowing me to study under you."
"I think not." There isn't so much as a pause before Lexine speaks the words, eyes on the supplies on the shelves and the hide in her hands. "You have potential, very well, but you don't belong here. Here where, as you've noted, the sun rarely shines in winter. There is no freewheeling here, no wandering with the wind. No sneaking your way into /my/ heart," she adds, finally looking over with a cool gaze. "I will forgive many things in the name of my Weyr, Yevide," she says, voice cold and soft as new snow. "But toying with a man on the edge is not one of them."
"Toying." The word bursts from her in all of the colors of surprised. "Is that how such things are seen here? Because the opportunity to pursue another dance didn't come to us for near to twenty turns?" Yevide recovers from her shock and falls into an emotion that may well turn frost into ice. She laughs. Softly while shaking her head, she laughs to chase away the snow with her own brand of light. "I don't want your heart, Lexine. If you'll forgive me for saying so, you're not my type and never have been. You are..." Here the Igenite spreads her hands while she searches for the proper word. "You are everything I could never be. I used to want to be someone like you but I've found my own way. It's led me here. And it isn't G'thon who can see my wandering brought to an end."
"Wander away, Yevide. But leave him alone until he's had time to heal, or I will make your life as cold, dark, and grounded as a High Reaches winter," Lexine says with quiet certainty. "Just because we aren't weyrmates doesn't mean I don't love him. Our lives took different paths that just happened to converge in some aspects. Stay away from G'thon." Turning her gaze back to the shelves, she lets out a long breath, composing herself. "I have two juniors, Yevide, and I'll not be setting them aside for an Igen savage who wishes more for freedom than duty."
Yevide's hands return to clasping behind her back and she surveys Lexine with fresh interest. Her smile no longer plays about her lips. It rests as clear and as poised as if it were fresh-carved from the ice the other goldrider is borrowing from. "Freedom." Echoing the other woman appears to be a new habit. "As I see it, Weyrwoman, were it freedom I was interested in, I would've remained in Igen where Arinya and the younger juniors see to it that I need only trouble myself with that which interests me. I'm of little use to anyone there. You have two juniors, Lexine, and yet still have need for a third. I would be that third and I would serve whatever duty you demanded of me well. You know that." Silence again behind the Reaches goldrider. Yevide breaks it finally by adding quietly, "We feel the same."
"No." Lexine starts to lower herself to count objects on a bottom shelf before catching herself, unwilling to let the younger woman see her stiffness in the motion, instead continuing along the line of shelves. "Should Arinya herself extend the offer, perhaps I will consider it for the good of the Weyr," she adds politely, marking the hide again. "But I'll not take you in, anger Igen, and have you sniffing about G'thon and other things belonging to the senior Weyrwoman."
"Ah." It would perhaps be more diplomatic to sound disappointed but Yevide manages only thoughtful. "It's regretable you feel this way. I don't want to take anything from you." She draws herself up and steps back. The scuff of her boots and her indrawn breath signal her preparing to leave. "What else do they say in Bitra? Ah, yes. The proof is in the pudding. I'm sorry for the interruption, Weyrwoman. Thank you for your time."
Lexine arches a brow slightly, smile tugging at one corner of her lips. "Poor politics, Yevide," she murmurs. "Perhaps you might make better attendance at Sefton's classes. To imply that you are capable, yet also that you would prefer Arinya not know of your plans to become senior here? As I said, Yevide, should Arinya herself extend the offer of help..." She trails off with an elegant shrug of one shoulder. "But /you/ are not worth angering Igen and others with the theft of a gold dragon," she concludes, leaving her own implications in the words.
"Perhaps that's where we've tangled ourselves, Lexine. I implied nothing of the sort...beyond my own capability, yes. I said simply that it wasn't Arinya's decision that I come here." Yevide's smile flashes out over her shoulder while she turns to go. Several paces carry her down the aisle but her smile remains focused on the other woman. "I am poor at dissembling though, I'll admit quickly enough to that! I've never enjoyed the taste of lies or half-truths. Good luck with your count."
"Oh, I doubt you've difficulty with much, Yevide," Lexine smiles sweetly. "Take care, dear," she concludes before turning back to her inventory, as steady and certain as though she'd dismissed the other goldrider, rather than been left.
When: Day 19, month 3, turn 1 of the 7th Pass
Where: Stores
What: The Igen goldrider approaches High Reaches' senior to discuss future possibilities and suffers the sharp side of Lexine's tongue instead. (Warning: Log contains information that is not public knowledge at this time. If you think your character would have reason to know what takes place in this log, please page Lexine and Yevide to work out the details OOCly.)
It is 19:25 on day 19, month 3, turn 1 of the 7th Pass.
It is currently early spring. The only word to describe a spring day such as this one is soggy. Rain falls in a constant shower of silver from the skies above, sometimes retreating into a misty drizzle, sometimes strengthening into a downpour that threatens to soak anyone who ventures outside.
You head into the Weyr's stores.
Stores
Upon entering this immense cavern, the nose is assaulted with a miasma of scents-- spices and old hides and stored clothing and dry goods and an older musty smell that is likely linked to dust and the inevitable decay that strikes any storage cavern. While the Weyr does follow a strict organizational system that ensures that like is stored with or near like, it's still possible to lose one's self here without a solid knowledge of the shelves' layout. These shelves are impressive, too. They rise from floor to shadowed ceiling, wall to distant wall, separated by wide aisles that hold carts and ladders for the fetching and transportation of required goods. Two tunnels exit this cavern. The first is a short tunnel that leads to the upper caverns. The second, much longer, takes a person directly to the kitchens.
Kitchens (K) Upper Caverns (UC)
Some jobs of a senior weyrwoman are glamorous. There's leading the queens wing in Threadfall, the emotional high of a flight, the pride of knowing that you were part of bringing new dragonpairs in to the world, the pomp and circumstance of wearing gowns and other such things at Gathers and rubbing elbows with the high and mighty of Pern. Some jobs are less glamorous. It's one of the latter category that holds the Weyrwoman's attention now, a careful inventory of the items in stores being conducted for calculating the spring round of tithes. For once, there's no horde of drudges or secretaries running about. Instead, Lexine is taking her time, moving from row to row as she counts the items on the shelves.
Lexine
At sixty turns - too old for pretty - Lexine still merits the description of striking. Pale blonde hair, the shade of good champagne now shot through with as much white as blonde, is cut short save for the longer silk-fine bangs that fall around sharp features, brushing at a cleanly angled jaw and austere, chiseled cheekbones. Angular eyes of a startling bright and clear green are framed by deep crow's feet at the corners, wrinkles creeping towards her cheekbones with each new turn. Otherwise, she seems to have only grown more polished with age, skin growing thin and pulling tight over already sharp features. Her lips are thin, though pleasantly curved, suited to smirks and quiet, secret smiles as sharp as the line of a sloped nose.
Always slender at five feet and five inches tall, that very slightness has been forgiving as she has aged, keeping her from drooping or sagging too much. There's still the wiry strength of a veteran dragonrider in her arms and legs, though aching joints make movements once graceful now a little more stately. She wears simple, elegant clothes suited to High Reaches, a soft sweater of burgundy cashmere wool woven in the pattern of Tillek's Blood belted over a warm, dark grey wool skirt. Close-fitting breeches of black suede fit beneath the skirt, and the knot of the High Reaches senior Weyrwoman rests on her shoulder.
Privacy is a rare thing when one leads. Interruption comes in the form of two sets of footsteps and there is too much determination in the second set to think that their owners might be content to pass on and leave the Weyrwoman to her inventory. One of the stores' assistants rounds the corner first with Yevide fast on her heels. The girl looks nervous while the goldrider approaches something that could be described as pleased. "As you said she would be! Thank you." A gesture summarily dismisses the assistant and she's ignore after while the Igen junior closes on the Reaches senior. "You missed it, Weyrwoman. I saw a sunbeam threaten earlier and thought...ah! I must share this with someone, surely they're hungry for news of the sun. And where do I find you? I..." Blue eyes are drawn to one of the neat labels affixed to the nearest shelf. "Here now, I really will have to take notes on your organizational system...Arinya never much cared to pay attention to this sort of thing."
"Arinya is a sweet girl," Lexine muses, stepping down one shelf with a forgiving smile and nod towards the assistant before turning back to the shelves and the hide in her hands. "Well-suited to running a Weyr during a Pass, I always thought. But not one for details, I imagine. Lucky for her to have someone like you around, Yevide," she concludes, looking up with another political smile. "Though I do wonder how they do without you."
"She is truly incredible, in the air." Yevide doesn't begrudge the absent woman her due; the compliment is full and rich and given with a smile that is in turn both fond and amused. The latter appears to be directed towards the present woman and rolls into a chuckle only after she meets Lexine's eyes. "You'd think they would feel my absence, wouldn't you? But no. There is always someone younger and brighter to step into one's shoes. Even before they're vacated, in some cases. Would you like a hand, Lexine?"
"Ah, but youth is no replacement for experience when..." Lexine pauses, tilting her head slightly as she reaches up to count jars of spice. "How do they say it in Bitra?" she asks affectedly, clearly aware of just what they say. "When the chips are down, that's it. I would think Arinya would be aware of that. She always struck me as a sight more intelligent than Kalinda. And unafraid to make use of those with an ability she lacked. Ruthlessness. A valuable trait in a weyrwoman."
Yevide clasps her hands behind her back and paces around to the other side of the goldrider. Her chin has been lifted to allow her to regard those same jars but there's a lack of focus in her eyes that suggests her mind is elsewhere. "Perhaps Arinya believes that there is experience enough in Igen. She is after all senior in every way to myself." A sigh takes the desert woman's breath and colors her smile with wry humor. "Do you think she lacks ruthlessness then? Or perhaps I misunderstand. It wouldn't be the first time. Still...I wouldn't put such a trait beyond her. She's had her moments. As have we all, I think. As you say...it's valuable and common enough among our kind."
Lexine makes a mark on the hide in her hands, stepping around the younger goldrider in order to continue her inventory. "I've found her to be a perceptive girl as well," she continues easily. "No doubt she's done what's best for her weyr by sending you away to us," she concludes as she looks over with another knife-edged smile. "Was there something you wished to speak with me about, Yevide? Beyond the arrival of a sunbeam and the qualities of your weyrwoman?"
"Were that her decision, Weyrwoman, I would very much have cause to be concerned for her good opinion of me." And that, Yevide's suddenly pensive expression suggests, would be a sad thing indeed. "But after seventeen turns of good service to my Weyr, I think I've earned the opportunity for a choice of my own. And that is actually what brought me here." She turns to follow after the senior and indulges in a few second's silent before finding the words-- and the sunshine-- for a brighter reply. "Question me, question my motives, question whether I tell the truth, Lexine, and I'll see no insult in it. But please, don't offer up insult to the sun's return. It's time for winter to be cleared away. I'm here to ask you if you would do me the honor of allowing me to study under you."
"I think not." There isn't so much as a pause before Lexine speaks the words, eyes on the supplies on the shelves and the hide in her hands. "You have potential, very well, but you don't belong here. Here where, as you've noted, the sun rarely shines in winter. There is no freewheeling here, no wandering with the wind. No sneaking your way into /my/ heart," she adds, finally looking over with a cool gaze. "I will forgive many things in the name of my Weyr, Yevide," she says, voice cold and soft as new snow. "But toying with a man on the edge is not one of them."
"Toying." The word bursts from her in all of the colors of surprised. "Is that how such things are seen here? Because the opportunity to pursue another dance didn't come to us for near to twenty turns?" Yevide recovers from her shock and falls into an emotion that may well turn frost into ice. She laughs. Softly while shaking her head, she laughs to chase away the snow with her own brand of light. "I don't want your heart, Lexine. If you'll forgive me for saying so, you're not my type and never have been. You are..." Here the Igenite spreads her hands while she searches for the proper word. "You are everything I could never be. I used to want to be someone like you but I've found my own way. It's led me here. And it isn't G'thon who can see my wandering brought to an end."
"Wander away, Yevide. But leave him alone until he's had time to heal, or I will make your life as cold, dark, and grounded as a High Reaches winter," Lexine says with quiet certainty. "Just because we aren't weyrmates doesn't mean I don't love him. Our lives took different paths that just happened to converge in some aspects. Stay away from G'thon." Turning her gaze back to the shelves, she lets out a long breath, composing herself. "I have two juniors, Yevide, and I'll not be setting them aside for an Igen savage who wishes more for freedom than duty."
Yevide's hands return to clasping behind her back and she surveys Lexine with fresh interest. Her smile no longer plays about her lips. It rests as clear and as poised as if it were fresh-carved from the ice the other goldrider is borrowing from. "Freedom." Echoing the other woman appears to be a new habit. "As I see it, Weyrwoman, were it freedom I was interested in, I would've remained in Igen where Arinya and the younger juniors see to it that I need only trouble myself with that which interests me. I'm of little use to anyone there. You have two juniors, Lexine, and yet still have need for a third. I would be that third and I would serve whatever duty you demanded of me well. You know that." Silence again behind the Reaches goldrider. Yevide breaks it finally by adding quietly, "We feel the same."
"No." Lexine starts to lower herself to count objects on a bottom shelf before catching herself, unwilling to let the younger woman see her stiffness in the motion, instead continuing along the line of shelves. "Should Arinya herself extend the offer, perhaps I will consider it for the good of the Weyr," she adds politely, marking the hide again. "But I'll not take you in, anger Igen, and have you sniffing about G'thon and other things belonging to the senior Weyrwoman."
"Ah." It would perhaps be more diplomatic to sound disappointed but Yevide manages only thoughtful. "It's regretable you feel this way. I don't want to take anything from you." She draws herself up and steps back. The scuff of her boots and her indrawn breath signal her preparing to leave. "What else do they say in Bitra? Ah, yes. The proof is in the pudding. I'm sorry for the interruption, Weyrwoman. Thank you for your time."
Lexine arches a brow slightly, smile tugging at one corner of her lips. "Poor politics, Yevide," she murmurs. "Perhaps you might make better attendance at Sefton's classes. To imply that you are capable, yet also that you would prefer Arinya not know of your plans to become senior here? As I said, Yevide, should Arinya herself extend the offer of help..." She trails off with an elegant shrug of one shoulder. "But /you/ are not worth angering Igen and others with the theft of a gold dragon," she concludes, leaving her own implications in the words.
"Perhaps that's where we've tangled ourselves, Lexine. I implied nothing of the sort...beyond my own capability, yes. I said simply that it wasn't Arinya's decision that I come here." Yevide's smile flashes out over her shoulder while she turns to go. Several paces carry her down the aisle but her smile remains focused on the other woman. "I am poor at dissembling though, I'll admit quickly enough to that! I've never enjoyed the taste of lies or half-truths. Good luck with your count."
"Oh, I doubt you've difficulty with much, Yevide," Lexine smiles sweetly. "Take care, dear," she concludes before turning back to her inventory, as steady and certain as though she'd dismissed the other goldrider, rather than been left.