Best Advice
Location: Classroom
Time: Afternoon on Day 5, Month 9, Turn 2
Players: Roa and Kay
Scene: A bit of after-class discussion has Roa thinking about things she'd rather not consider.
It's late afternoon as the class on conflict resolution is being let out, and there is no particular mad dash for the door. It's cold outside, after all. Raining. Who wants to be out in -that-? Still, it's only perhaps fifteen minutes before the classroom empties. Mostly. One figure remains: that of the slight little weyrwoman recently moved to the Reaches. She is resting with her chin propped on a fist, rereading through some notes she has just recently taken. There is a faint frown on her face, and she seems to have no interest in leaving.
Perched to sit on the edge of 'his' desk, Kay doesn't seem to be in any hurry to rush anyone out, answering the occasional question as people slowly shuffle away. He alternates between watching his students and stacking his things up together. When he's left with only Roa, the weyrwoman is watched for a few moments, and then he's dropping lightly down to the floor. He turns to finish stacking everything up mostly neatly (or at least in a fashion that can be carried), and then the man wanders over to lean up against a nearby desk. "Questions, weyrwoman?"
"Hmm?" Roa glances upwards and over at Kay, blinking slowly as she's drawn from her study. "Always, sir," she replies with a flash of a smile. "But I was trying to mull them over in my head. I've been caught, it seems." Her hands release the hide, letting it flop lightly to her desk. "It's been quite a month here. Sometimes I can't believe, when I think about the weyr when I first arrived and now, that it's even the same place."
There's a chuckle in answer to that initial reply, his own smile appearing briefly before it's tucked back away. Khalil eases around to sit down in the desk beside Roa, putting a hand out and gesturing towards the hide she set down in indication for her to hand it over. "It has been, at that," he agrees. "Even in the short time that I have been here I've seen it, and I've been looking through the same eyes the whole while."
"Ah, and there is another question, entirely. -Do- we look through the same eyes, as the world changes around us? Do we remain impartial observers, as you say we must when mediating? Or are our eyes changed by what they see?" Roa lifts the hide and passes it along. It contains notes from class, but also some tangential thoughts. Ways some of the concepts might apply to Nabol. Ways they might apply to speaking with a prisoner. And up in the corner, tiny, is a rather unflattering caricature of the Lady Minnawela from Ista. Her mouth is open very wide but the only thing coming out of it is an empty word bubble with spinner's webs.
Rolling it out on the desk in front of him, Khalil sits back in the chair, stretching his legs out beneath the desk and otherwise making him self entirely comfortable. The hide is studied with enough attention that it's possible that he's not even listening to the goldrider's words, but once the study is complete he lifts his gaze, puts on a lazy smile for her benefit. "No," he corrects. "You must make your best attempt at being an impartial observer and be aware at all times of your biases and compensate for them." Which is not precisely the line he feeds in class, but it's close. There is a hint of emphasis there, first on 'you' and then on both 'your's. "You tell me, weyrwoman. Are your eyes changed?"
"I think they are," Roa considers, her hands clasping together atop the desk. "Although it depends on what you mean they are changed -from-. In many ways, I do not think I'm the same as I was when I first arrived here for Caucus. And in many ways, I suppose I am. But..." the girl's brows furrow slightly, "that's normal, isn't it?"
"You tell me," Khalil directs, eyebrow lifting in prompt. That's his favorite phrase, by the way. A good number of questions asked of him in class are answered with those three words, or are at least answered starting with those words. "Is it normal? If your perspective has changed, what is it that's changed it?"
Roa huffs softly. Usually Roa is careful not to end up on the receiving end of those three little words. She makes it a point to keep her questions detailed, her answers inclusive. Every so often, even she would like to just be told something. "Life," is the elusive response first offered. "People. New knowledge. If I could pinpoint precisely what and why, I doubt the whole thing would seem so perplexing."
Kay, not so fond of giving straight answers. Given that one of the primary things that he tries to drive home is that the key to solving most problems is asking questions, though -- it's not all that much of a surprise. The harper chuckles at Roa's response, though the amusement is gentle. "Do you think that there is a precise answer? Something you could point at and say 'ah-ha, that's what did it, that's what changed me'?" The questions do seem very genuine.
The smile, tiny and soft and bidden forth by her instructor's chuckle, hides itself away again at the question. "Yes," she says simply. "The first time. But that was a while ago, and I have changed more since. Here...no." Roa shakes her head slowly, fingers tapping on the opposite hand's knuckles. "Nothing is quite so clear anymore, and I expect it's a combination of things as varied as any other recipe."
"Big and drastic changes happen in an instant, and continue to play out for years after," Khalil agrees, glancing down towards the hide that holds her notes again. "Be it internal, in a sudden flash of insight, or some external event. You walk the same road every day for years, from the place you sleep down to the area you work. While you work, you're taught about the plants that grow along the way. As you learn, you notice those plants as you walk, you see things you didn't see before. Now, it's not a boring trudge full of thoughts of what your day will be, but a contemplation of your environment. What changed?"
"Nothing. Everything. The thoughts and the awareness you had when walking the path," Roa suggests. "It shifted, gradually, from one paradigm to another. I remember, when I was younger, I would sometimes find old clothes that I had outgrown. And it always surprised me." She chuckles softly. "I hadn't -noticed- growing, after all."
"It's rare that one does, aside from growing pains. Even then, it's just a leg cramp or a sore knee," Khalil returns, half of his mouth turning up into a lopsided grin. "Sometimes just uncomfortable, sometimes unbearable, rarely identified for what it is save by somebody else. Until you've gained an inch, and even then it's hit or miss whether you're going to put it together with the pains from previous days."
"It's a bit like when one's dragon goes proddy for the first time, I suspect. I'm told you usually don't realize what's happening until it's all over. But, growing up only happens once. There's no opportunity to ready yourself for the next time." Roa scrunches her lips up to one side of her mouth, tipping her head to the opposite side. "Only I suppose it doesn't happen -all- at once, so perhaps you can at that."
There's that chuckle again. "Growing up isn't something that ever stops," Khalil points out, eyes now twinkling. "I've been told I still have a considerable amount of it to do myself, and I've grandchildren."
"I suppose you're right." Roa leans forward to again settle her chin on her fist. "You don't realize that, when you're little. You just assume, once you hit twenty, you'll suddenly have all of the answers. And then, when you're twenty, you presume it happens at thirty. Nobody bothers to tell you it doesn't happen at all, because they're all so busy pretending it's already happened to them." A tiny smirk and a roll of her eyes.
"I'm holding out for fifty," Khalil states, and though his tone is serious his eyes are still twinkling. "Fifty is certain to be the magic number. The more that you learn and the more that you understand, Roa, it doesn't all give you the answers. It just brings up more questions. We educate ourselves not to know it all, but to understand that we don't."
"That, not knowing, is something I understand quite well." Roa's eyes lift from her desk to study Kay. "It's a bit daunting to realize how very very little I do know. If you might be willing, sir, when you turn fifty, to share a few of the secrets, I would be ever so grateful." The smirk reappears.
Khalil meets her study with mildness, an easy smile. "I expect that amongst the tidbits of knowledge I will suddenly gain upon achieving my fiftieth turn will be all of the reasons why it would be problematic to share those secrets," he explains, tone remaining apparently serious. "But we'll see. As I'm feeling generous right now, I will spare you the lecture on questions versus answers."
"Thank you, sir," a deep and courteous nod from the little goldrider follows those words, even if the words themselves are a bit wry. "I am learning very well the value of questions and of learning for yourself. On occasion, however, a little bit of help is nice." Her gaze moves from Kay to straight ahead. "I'm in an awkward position," she admits quietly. "If Tialith is timely, I will suddenly be expected to know a great deal, and nobody will be waiting until I turn fifty to gain such wisdom."
Her thanks earns her another chuckle, and the harper rolls his eyes. Khalil's grin reappears briefly, but it fades away at that quiet admittance. He contemplates for a moment, then sits up, sits forward, leans on his arms on the hide on the desk. He's watching her though, not anything else. Eventually he speaks, and when he does his voice is quiet and serious. "That flight, if it happens, can not and will not suddenly confer upon you all of that knowledge any more than impressing Tialith did in the first place. She chose you because you have the capacity to learn it, weyrwoman, not because you already knew it. Circumstances will have been unkind, if they put you in that position. There's no denying that. On the other side, though, I don't think there's anybody out there that ever feels quite entirely ready for that sort of thing. Not if they've an understanding of what they're getting in to. I'd worry if you didn't feel the way you do. Best advice I can give you?" For all that he's been spouting it, apparently this bit he's going to ask her if she wants to hear rather than just giving it over.
"I know that, sir," there is a soft and tempered frustration in Roa's words. "I know Tialith won't provide me with anything more than she already has. But, that won't be an excuse. I'll still be expected to know more than I do. I'll have to. There's no other option." Her head turns, fist flattening so she can press her mouth against her palm. Hence, Roa's next words are muffled: "Your best advice would be greatly appreciated."
"You're aware of it, but do you know it?" Khalil asks, tilting his head to the side and continuing to study Roa's face. "It is not an excuse it is a reason, and they are two very different things." The man shakes his head after that, sitting up again, then settling back once more. "My advice. You're going to mess up. You're going to make so many mistakes that you won't be sure you'll be able to live with yourself sometimes. Acknowledge it, and start driving it home now that it's just something that happens and that you're going to have to live with. Everybody does, and though the weyrleadership's mistakes cost more, you aren't going to be immune. Know it down deep, Weyrwoman."
The girl draws in a slow breath and exhales against her palm. "That isn't comforting," Roa mumbles, "but that just means it's true. Shells." Her eyes close slowly and she tips her head up so her mouth is no longer blocked. "This place can't afford all those mistakes. Not now. Not for turns until things balance out again."
"Yes, weyrwoman. It can, because it has to," Khalil replies, entirely solemn. "There is no choice, there is no option. No matter who wins that flight, no matter how competent, knowledgeable, and wise they are, there will be mistakes. Big ones. Every Weyrwoman that there has ever been has made them, and the Weyrs have marched on despite. I promise you that. Even if you were the very example of perfection, it would not be enough to keep you from messing up on occasion." There, he pauses to let his words sink in. "I'm also going to tell you that for all that you won't believe it: it's okay. It won't always be your fault."
There is a soft groan against her hand. "Yes it will," Roa murmurs softly, though more to herself than to Kay. Her eyes close and then open again, her hand dropping to her lap. "I'd better go. I've homework and paperwork, and I've been missing dinner too often." The hand is held out to reclaim her hide, her other arm reaching down to scoop up her satchel.
"No, it won't be," Khalil maintains, rolling the hide up and offering it up towards her. "You're human just the same as everybody else. More than that is expected of you, but somebody needs to tell you that you're allowed. You won't hear it from many, and I'd prefer to get a head start." It's all delivered in that same serious tone.
The hide is accepted back and tucked away into her satchel, and Roa begins to scoot out of the chair. She stands with a small sigh. "Thank you for the advice, sir. It was kind of you to speak with me for so long."
"You'd have spoken with you for so long too, if you were looking forward to reading essays," Kay informs her gravely, shifting slowly and carefully to push back up to his own feet with only a very *quiet* noise of protest about the movement. Grunt. He's stiff. "You're welcome. We do the best with what we have, but that's all we can do. Can't say I've ever been in your shoes, but I've felt too little in my own before. You ever need to talk, my door is always open."
"Well, sir, if you so dislike reading them, you could always assign fewer." Roa's smile is all blue eyes and innocence. But then she adds, more sincerely, "Thank you." A small nod, and Roa makes her way across the classroom and slips out the door.
The harper just watches her go, frown settling onto his face once she steps out of sight. Khalil shakes his head and grunts again under his breath a moment later, and then he's heading for the desk and his not quite neat stack of hides.
Time: Afternoon on Day 5, Month 9, Turn 2
Players: Roa and Kay
Scene: A bit of after-class discussion has Roa thinking about things she'd rather not consider.
It's late afternoon as the class on conflict resolution is being let out, and there is no particular mad dash for the door. It's cold outside, after all. Raining. Who wants to be out in -that-? Still, it's only perhaps fifteen minutes before the classroom empties. Mostly. One figure remains: that of the slight little weyrwoman recently moved to the Reaches. She is resting with her chin propped on a fist, rereading through some notes she has just recently taken. There is a faint frown on her face, and she seems to have no interest in leaving.
Perched to sit on the edge of 'his' desk, Kay doesn't seem to be in any hurry to rush anyone out, answering the occasional question as people slowly shuffle away. He alternates between watching his students and stacking his things up together. When he's left with only Roa, the weyrwoman is watched for a few moments, and then he's dropping lightly down to the floor. He turns to finish stacking everything up mostly neatly (or at least in a fashion that can be carried), and then the man wanders over to lean up against a nearby desk. "Questions, weyrwoman?"
"Hmm?" Roa glances upwards and over at Kay, blinking slowly as she's drawn from her study. "Always, sir," she replies with a flash of a smile. "But I was trying to mull them over in my head. I've been caught, it seems." Her hands release the hide, letting it flop lightly to her desk. "It's been quite a month here. Sometimes I can't believe, when I think about the weyr when I first arrived and now, that it's even the same place."
There's a chuckle in answer to that initial reply, his own smile appearing briefly before it's tucked back away. Khalil eases around to sit down in the desk beside Roa, putting a hand out and gesturing towards the hide she set down in indication for her to hand it over. "It has been, at that," he agrees. "Even in the short time that I have been here I've seen it, and I've been looking through the same eyes the whole while."
"Ah, and there is another question, entirely. -Do- we look through the same eyes, as the world changes around us? Do we remain impartial observers, as you say we must when mediating? Or are our eyes changed by what they see?" Roa lifts the hide and passes it along. It contains notes from class, but also some tangential thoughts. Ways some of the concepts might apply to Nabol. Ways they might apply to speaking with a prisoner. And up in the corner, tiny, is a rather unflattering caricature of the Lady Minnawela from Ista. Her mouth is open very wide but the only thing coming out of it is an empty word bubble with spinner's webs.
Rolling it out on the desk in front of him, Khalil sits back in the chair, stretching his legs out beneath the desk and otherwise making him self entirely comfortable. The hide is studied with enough attention that it's possible that he's not even listening to the goldrider's words, but once the study is complete he lifts his gaze, puts on a lazy smile for her benefit. "No," he corrects. "You must make your best attempt at being an impartial observer and be aware at all times of your biases and compensate for them." Which is not precisely the line he feeds in class, but it's close. There is a hint of emphasis there, first on 'you' and then on both 'your's. "You tell me, weyrwoman. Are your eyes changed?"
"I think they are," Roa considers, her hands clasping together atop the desk. "Although it depends on what you mean they are changed -from-. In many ways, I do not think I'm the same as I was when I first arrived here for Caucus. And in many ways, I suppose I am. But..." the girl's brows furrow slightly, "that's normal, isn't it?"
"You tell me," Khalil directs, eyebrow lifting in prompt. That's his favorite phrase, by the way. A good number of questions asked of him in class are answered with those three words, or are at least answered starting with those words. "Is it normal? If your perspective has changed, what is it that's changed it?"
Roa huffs softly. Usually Roa is careful not to end up on the receiving end of those three little words. She makes it a point to keep her questions detailed, her answers inclusive. Every so often, even she would like to just be told something. "Life," is the elusive response first offered. "People. New knowledge. If I could pinpoint precisely what and why, I doubt the whole thing would seem so perplexing."
Kay, not so fond of giving straight answers. Given that one of the primary things that he tries to drive home is that the key to solving most problems is asking questions, though -- it's not all that much of a surprise. The harper chuckles at Roa's response, though the amusement is gentle. "Do you think that there is a precise answer? Something you could point at and say 'ah-ha, that's what did it, that's what changed me'?" The questions do seem very genuine.
The smile, tiny and soft and bidden forth by her instructor's chuckle, hides itself away again at the question. "Yes," she says simply. "The first time. But that was a while ago, and I have changed more since. Here...no." Roa shakes her head slowly, fingers tapping on the opposite hand's knuckles. "Nothing is quite so clear anymore, and I expect it's a combination of things as varied as any other recipe."
"Big and drastic changes happen in an instant, and continue to play out for years after," Khalil agrees, glancing down towards the hide that holds her notes again. "Be it internal, in a sudden flash of insight, or some external event. You walk the same road every day for years, from the place you sleep down to the area you work. While you work, you're taught about the plants that grow along the way. As you learn, you notice those plants as you walk, you see things you didn't see before. Now, it's not a boring trudge full of thoughts of what your day will be, but a contemplation of your environment. What changed?"
"Nothing. Everything. The thoughts and the awareness you had when walking the path," Roa suggests. "It shifted, gradually, from one paradigm to another. I remember, when I was younger, I would sometimes find old clothes that I had outgrown. And it always surprised me." She chuckles softly. "I hadn't -noticed- growing, after all."
"It's rare that one does, aside from growing pains. Even then, it's just a leg cramp or a sore knee," Khalil returns, half of his mouth turning up into a lopsided grin. "Sometimes just uncomfortable, sometimes unbearable, rarely identified for what it is save by somebody else. Until you've gained an inch, and even then it's hit or miss whether you're going to put it together with the pains from previous days."
"It's a bit like when one's dragon goes proddy for the first time, I suspect. I'm told you usually don't realize what's happening until it's all over. But, growing up only happens once. There's no opportunity to ready yourself for the next time." Roa scrunches her lips up to one side of her mouth, tipping her head to the opposite side. "Only I suppose it doesn't happen -all- at once, so perhaps you can at that."
There's that chuckle again. "Growing up isn't something that ever stops," Khalil points out, eyes now twinkling. "I've been told I still have a considerable amount of it to do myself, and I've grandchildren."
"I suppose you're right." Roa leans forward to again settle her chin on her fist. "You don't realize that, when you're little. You just assume, once you hit twenty, you'll suddenly have all of the answers. And then, when you're twenty, you presume it happens at thirty. Nobody bothers to tell you it doesn't happen at all, because they're all so busy pretending it's already happened to them." A tiny smirk and a roll of her eyes.
"I'm holding out for fifty," Khalil states, and though his tone is serious his eyes are still twinkling. "Fifty is certain to be the magic number. The more that you learn and the more that you understand, Roa, it doesn't all give you the answers. It just brings up more questions. We educate ourselves not to know it all, but to understand that we don't."
"That, not knowing, is something I understand quite well." Roa's eyes lift from her desk to study Kay. "It's a bit daunting to realize how very very little I do know. If you might be willing, sir, when you turn fifty, to share a few of the secrets, I would be ever so grateful." The smirk reappears.
Khalil meets her study with mildness, an easy smile. "I expect that amongst the tidbits of knowledge I will suddenly gain upon achieving my fiftieth turn will be all of the reasons why it would be problematic to share those secrets," he explains, tone remaining apparently serious. "But we'll see. As I'm feeling generous right now, I will spare you the lecture on questions versus answers."
"Thank you, sir," a deep and courteous nod from the little goldrider follows those words, even if the words themselves are a bit wry. "I am learning very well the value of questions and of learning for yourself. On occasion, however, a little bit of help is nice." Her gaze moves from Kay to straight ahead. "I'm in an awkward position," she admits quietly. "If Tialith is timely, I will suddenly be expected to know a great deal, and nobody will be waiting until I turn fifty to gain such wisdom."
Her thanks earns her another chuckle, and the harper rolls his eyes. Khalil's grin reappears briefly, but it fades away at that quiet admittance. He contemplates for a moment, then sits up, sits forward, leans on his arms on the hide on the desk. He's watching her though, not anything else. Eventually he speaks, and when he does his voice is quiet and serious. "That flight, if it happens, can not and will not suddenly confer upon you all of that knowledge any more than impressing Tialith did in the first place. She chose you because you have the capacity to learn it, weyrwoman, not because you already knew it. Circumstances will have been unkind, if they put you in that position. There's no denying that. On the other side, though, I don't think there's anybody out there that ever feels quite entirely ready for that sort of thing. Not if they've an understanding of what they're getting in to. I'd worry if you didn't feel the way you do. Best advice I can give you?" For all that he's been spouting it, apparently this bit he's going to ask her if she wants to hear rather than just giving it over.
"I know that, sir," there is a soft and tempered frustration in Roa's words. "I know Tialith won't provide me with anything more than she already has. But, that won't be an excuse. I'll still be expected to know more than I do. I'll have to. There's no other option." Her head turns, fist flattening so she can press her mouth against her palm. Hence, Roa's next words are muffled: "Your best advice would be greatly appreciated."
"You're aware of it, but do you know it?" Khalil asks, tilting his head to the side and continuing to study Roa's face. "It is not an excuse it is a reason, and they are two very different things." The man shakes his head after that, sitting up again, then settling back once more. "My advice. You're going to mess up. You're going to make so many mistakes that you won't be sure you'll be able to live with yourself sometimes. Acknowledge it, and start driving it home now that it's just something that happens and that you're going to have to live with. Everybody does, and though the weyrleadership's mistakes cost more, you aren't going to be immune. Know it down deep, Weyrwoman."
The girl draws in a slow breath and exhales against her palm. "That isn't comforting," Roa mumbles, "but that just means it's true. Shells." Her eyes close slowly and she tips her head up so her mouth is no longer blocked. "This place can't afford all those mistakes. Not now. Not for turns until things balance out again."
"Yes, weyrwoman. It can, because it has to," Khalil replies, entirely solemn. "There is no choice, there is no option. No matter who wins that flight, no matter how competent, knowledgeable, and wise they are, there will be mistakes. Big ones. Every Weyrwoman that there has ever been has made them, and the Weyrs have marched on despite. I promise you that. Even if you were the very example of perfection, it would not be enough to keep you from messing up on occasion." There, he pauses to let his words sink in. "I'm also going to tell you that for all that you won't believe it: it's okay. It won't always be your fault."
There is a soft groan against her hand. "Yes it will," Roa murmurs softly, though more to herself than to Kay. Her eyes close and then open again, her hand dropping to her lap. "I'd better go. I've homework and paperwork, and I've been missing dinner too often." The hand is held out to reclaim her hide, her other arm reaching down to scoop up her satchel.
"No, it won't be," Khalil maintains, rolling the hide up and offering it up towards her. "You're human just the same as everybody else. More than that is expected of you, but somebody needs to tell you that you're allowed. You won't hear it from many, and I'd prefer to get a head start." It's all delivered in that same serious tone.
The hide is accepted back and tucked away into her satchel, and Roa begins to scoot out of the chair. She stands with a small sigh. "Thank you for the advice, sir. It was kind of you to speak with me for so long."
"You'd have spoken with you for so long too, if you were looking forward to reading essays," Kay informs her gravely, shifting slowly and carefully to push back up to his own feet with only a very *quiet* noise of protest about the movement. Grunt. He's stiff. "You're welcome. We do the best with what we have, but that's all we can do. Can't say I've ever been in your shoes, but I've felt too little in my own before. You ever need to talk, my door is always open."
"Well, sir, if you so dislike reading them, you could always assign fewer." Roa's smile is all blue eyes and innocence. But then she adds, more sincerely, "Thank you." A small nod, and Roa makes her way across the classroom and slips out the door.
The harper just watches her go, frown settling onto his face once she steps out of sight. Khalil shakes his head and grunts again under his breath a moment later, and then he's heading for the desk and his not quite neat stack of hides.