Volume makes for clarity
It is an autumn morning, 10:10 of day 23, month 12, turn 19 of Interval 10.
Starstones, Fort Weyr
The Star Stones are located on a kind of stone platform on the rim of the bowl, with the time-honoured Finger Rock, Star Stone, and Eye Rock in their respective places. It's also a perfect vantage point to observe the goings on of the bowl far below. A watchdragon is generally posted here in addition to a few other choice locations along the rim of the Weyr.
Obvious exits:
Sky
Morning, just after drills have broken up, T'rev and Mecaith spiral down not to the ground but to the star stones, apparently intending to relieve whomever is on first watch. Did the wingleader pull the short straw this seven? Or is he filling in for someone? Either way, Mecaith lands lightly on the stones and T'rev swings downward, hiking his collar up higher and his scarf closer, though his "Good morning!" is jaunty.
Usually in the morning weyrlings have drills, but today Kai and Chielyth are up here, the green's eyes heavy-lidded with sleep. They're not precisely /watching/, either: the brightly-colored blocks used for beginning visualization training are scattered about, and it's those Chielyth is paying attention to. Not enough, though, for she turns eagerly to greet Mecaith's arrival while Kai tucks a cube between his arm and hip and offers a salute. "Mornin', sir. Mecaith."
"Oh hey, Kai, didn't expect to see you on duty," T'rev says with a ready enough smile as he strides over. Mecaith stretches once then bends down to investigate what Chielyth is up to. << Good morning Chielyth. Do you practice making pictures today? >> T'rev nears and nods acknowledgement of the salute. "At ease," he says casually and settles his own hands in his pockets. "Gettin' chilly ain't it?"
<< Yes, >> Chielyth tells the bronze, sharing both the silliness of it (she -knows- how to do this!) and an actual sketched image of the blocks as they were when Mecaith arrived. The colors are there, but the blocks are nothing but lines. Hollow. "We ain't goin' *between*," her rider shrugs like it's no big deal. "Might as well get some use of us." He relaxes into the cold, his eyes sweeping the horizon briefly before returning to the older man. "Yeah. Been here a turn now. Hard t' believe, sometimes."
Mecaith takes in what Chielyth offers with due consideration, turning the imagery over in his mind. Ultimately, his assessment, though gentle, is: << These are not complete, though the colors are very nice. >> T'rev rocks back on his heels a little, nodding. "Fillin' in for Meiry. She's got a bad cold. How come y'all ain't goin' between though?" he asks curiously, even as he tilts his head to 'listen' as Mecaith converses with Chielyth. "That long already? Don't seem it, no."
<< I know, >> comes Chielyth's immediate response. << Imoth says to do it this way, but it is wrong. >> But what Imoth wants, Imoth gets. Silly Imoth. B'kaiv thumps loose knuckles onto the hollow wood of his block. "'Cause she - Jan. Th' weyrlingmaster don't trust her t' do it right." Voice neutral and even. "Says she don't think she's ever gonna be able t' give visualizations."
Mecaith takes this in, no comment at first, just turning the idea around, turning the vacant shapes around, touching them lightly with sand and making them complete, then removing the details again, like a slideshow going in and out of focus. "Huh? Really? How come?" T'rev slants a curious look over at his bronze and Kai's green, squinting a little as maybe he gets a little bit of double vision going. "Whoa ... trippy ..." he murmurs under his breath, blinks.
B'kaiv lifts a shoulder, lets it drop. "You'd have t' ask her, sir. She's th' weyrlingmaster." At 'trippy' his eyes narrow, but he doesn't add anything. It's Chielyth who imagines for Mecaith the blocks in all their scribbly, full-color glory, and after them, the Star Stones from the center of the bowl, and then Fort Hold. They're accurate reproductions, if one takes into account the too-bright colors and the wobbly lines, just not the realistic clarity of most dragons.
Blinking a few more times, T'rev grins at Kai. "Mecaith was focusing and unfocusing on what she was showing him," the bronzerider explains. "Didn't expect to 'see' that when I touched up with him," he continues and takes a breath, head cocked to the side. "Well ain't that innerestin'. It's like a drawing ..." Mecaith whuffs once, lowly then takes one of Chielyth's shared pictures, the Star Stones from the bowl and gives it a little nudge, pushing it into 'focus'. Meticulous.
Chielyth huffs and looks away, off to the side. << Yes. That is what I showed you! >> There's a hint of flowers in her sending, the faintest wash of lilac and smell of lavender. "What d'you mean, s'like a drawing? It's..." He scowls at his inability to elaborate. "S'how she sees stuff."
"Yeah, she sees like it's been drawn instead of ... you know, how you and I see?" T'rev says slowly, considering what Mecaith keeps sharing and he leans against the bronze dragon's side, probably looking for warmth as the wind picks up a little. Mecaith's head lifts though as a pair of dragons pop out of Between and he lets out a querying sound, waits a moment then drops his head again. "Istans ..." T'rev murmurs, then re-focuses again. "She sees like that alla time?" the wingleader asks curiously. Meanwhile the bronze is doing that back and forth thing again. << Do you not see the difference, between /this/ and /this/? >> It's kind of like an eye exam. This one, or this one?
B'kaiv knocks on the block again because it's there. Shrugs. "Dunno. S'how - s'how she's always done it. Weyrlingmaster wants her t' do visualizations with lines instead. Somethin' about seein' the edges, only I dunno what she means by that." Behind him, Chielyth squinches her eyes tight shut, uninterested in the Istans. << Yes. That one, >> she waits for it to come past, << Is yours. The other one is mine. >>
"Huh. Tryin' to get her to see things more like other folks, most other dragons do, I guess. Mecaith, he's real precise, see. Maybe even more'n me. His visuals are really clear, like you're standin' in front of the place you want to go to, only in the air, y'know?" T'rev looks over at Chielyth again as her eyes squeeze tight. Mecaith leans forward a little, muzzle touching down to hers. << So you can see the difference between how I do it and you do it, but you cannot make your pictures like mine? >>
B'kaiv warns, "She's grumpy," even as Chielyth pulls away from the older dragon without opening her eyes. << They are -your- pictures, not mine! I want to do -my- pictures! >> Kai tosses his block into the middle of the others and strides to her, gloved hands reaching to soothe. His, "Figures," might or might not be meant to be heard. "I can always tell where she's thinkin' of. Yellin' at her, tellin' her she's wrong, ain't gonna make her - it ain't gonna /fix/ nothin'."
Mecaith, is a very very calm dragon and the pictures fade from view re-settling into the sands of his mental desert. << I merely ask the question so I can understand, Chielyth, >> the bronze says soothingly. << Your pictures are very lovely and I like looking at them. I just wished to know if you /could/ make my kind instead. >> Beat. << If you felt like it. >> T'rev watches Kai stride on over, unperturbed. "Ain't no one yellin', Kai. Or sayin' she's wrong. Not us at any rate. He's just askin' some questions. He's innerested and tryin' to get where she's comin' from."
<< If I could, they wouldn't be my pictures. They'd be yours. >> She bends her neck to whuffle her Kai, flops onto one hip and sighs. << I'm tired. >> Kai moves with the green, hands never leaving her hide, eyes remaining fixed on her as well. "Imoth - Jantha is. Or she wouldn't be havin' us do baby work. An' she," a tiny nod toward Chielyth, "Says he's," head jerk to Mecaith, "Askin' her t' make pictures different. How's that ain't sayin' she's doin' it wrong?"
<< Ahh I see, so then they're not yours anymore. How about making Kai's pictures if he makes pictures for you? >> Mecaith inquires next though he hunkers down in place, noses towards Chielyth comfortingly. << Have you been up here very long on duty, working on this? >> T'rev shakes his head a few times. "He asked her if she was /able/ to, not to actually do it yet. Or if she felt like it, if she would. Because he says, she said that she doesn't /want/ to, which is different from not bein' able to," the bronzerider explains. "And it ain't sayin' it's wrong until y'know, you say, 'that's wrong'." Both of T'rev's brows beetle on upwards a little. Usually Kai's the one who takes things too literally.
Chielyth complains, << It's moooooorning, >> as if being awake at this time of day is only one step removed from ripping off her talons. << And I don't want to make /Kai's/ pictures! >> A brightly colored something, moving too quickly to see, flings across the mental space between them. In response B'kaiv shushes her, his voice low, and extends his arms like he'd enfold her within. Calmly - or at least trying for calm - he says, "She can't. They all look th' same. Ever since she were real small. S'how she sees things, an' if she ain't gonna be allowed t' go *between* 'til she does it better, then I guess we ain't never goin'."
<< It is in fact, morning, >> Mecaith agrees and his own mental touch is soothing in turn, bright sunlight dappling down through palm fronds. << I like to watch the sun come up in the morning. >> He shares that picture, the sky, slowly changing colors, the sun lifting up over the edge of the Bowl, a sense of peace and new beginnings permeating expectant air. << Do they bother you, his pictures? >> Asked quietly on the heels of all that, perhaps when she's a little calmer. T'rev tilts his head back against Mecaith's neck, watching a speck approach and fly off: a wherry, flying high. "From what I'm hearin' him say, it ain't that she can't, it's that she don't want to. She doesn't want to take pictures from you. 'Course, I couldn't tell you if you'd come out of Between okay or not with a visual like that. Ain't never seen it like that before."
B'kaiv says bitterly, "'Course you'd listen t' him, instead of me," though his hands never stop stroking, moving, caressing sun-dappled hide. "I'm only her rider. Only know her best a' anybody." It takes long seconds for Chielyth to reply, and when she does, the sulky is muted. << No. They're /Kai's/ pictures. Kai remembers and he shows me and I show Imoth but he says NO and Kai says that's why I have to look at sharding blocks. >>
"Kai ... you're a weyrling," T'rev says quietly, "and you've shown for a while now, that you got problems with takin' things too literal, or jumpin' 'em up into what they ain't. 'Sides, if Chielyth told you Mecaith was been a stuffy-assed prig and I was sayin' he was just bein' polite, would you take her word, or mine, hm?" He waits a moment, his own hand sliding free of a pocket and drifting along Mecaith's side. "S'always useful to get a direct view from your dragon, dragon-to-dragon." There's another pause before T'rev goes on. "Once upon a time, turns ago, a girl I loved very much couldn't believe that I loved her, because I sleep around. Mecaith and her green hooked up like a bridge between me n' her. Let me /show/ her. Just sayin', sometimes it's helpful. Gettin' that perspective," he concludes, eyes steady on Kai's face. Mecaith sends a dry, warm breeze ruffling through, meant to be soothing still. << Blocks can be boring. Unless the patterns they're in are interesting. >> Sympathetic.
Kai cuts a look over at the question - he even has to /ask/? - but after a second his chin jerks up, acknowledging the point. << Kai remembers holding me, >> Chielyth answers, ducking around the topic entirely. << Does yours? Will he show you? >> Another second and B'kaiv returns to Chielyth, alternately tracing the play of her muscles and the patterns on her hide. "I ain't... I dunno what you're talkin' about," he admits, though with yet another shrug. "Since I don't think you're tryin' t' tell me you love me an' you ain't got no other way t' say it."
"Just an example," T'rev says with a grin. "I /like/ you, most of the time when we ain't gettin' our wires crossed, but no, no secret love thing over here. M'happy you n' Su are together and happy with each other and it's all sorted out now." Sincere, that. "Just y'know, you hurt her, n' you n' me'll be havin' words, or some sparrin' that ain't got no face rules," he says with a lopsided grin, though there's something serious, edgy almost in his tone. "Anyhow, what I mean, is that instead of translatin' through a rider, if your dragon lets you see direct into another dragon, or through that dragon to their /rider/ sometimes it can help to get rid of confusion about things. And it's why I'm listenin' to Mecaith here, because he's showin' me what she's seein' exact and tellin' me what she's sayin', exact." Mecaith takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly and the sunlight in his mind flares a little more brightly. << Of course. >> A moment later, there's an image from T'rev's perspective, baby Mecaith draped across his lap, a teenager's less muscled arms wound around neck and back and the slow progress of oil over hide going from dull to a gleaming sheen. There's also the sound of singing to go along with it, the boy's voice sweet but untrained, a lullabye. << If I think hard, I can remember that feeling. >> Quiet. << It is good. Safe. >>
Chielyth settles into that feeling, into her memories, a sleepy haze pulled over her mind. << Yes, >> she agrees, << Kai, >> and falls into a light doze. "I still dunno what you're talkin' about," Kai says, but some of Chielyth's rubbed off on him: he sounds more relaxed as well. "I listen in, sometimes, when she's talkin'. Her too. Only just 'cause you hear th' words they're usin' don't mean it's what they're sayin'." Another dragon pops into the sky over the southern bowl but Chielyth doesn't so much as twitch, leaving Kai to twist around and track the blue's descent.
Floating along with that haze, Mecaith keeps the imagery strong until Chielyth dozes off and then settles into his own thoughts, perhaps still contemplating the matter of the young green's visuals. "So you don't ever open up your head all the way?" T'rev asks next, brown eyes on Kai's face until that other dragon appears. Mecaith looks up and T'rev nods. "Geyonth and Opria coming home," he relates and lifts a hand to the distant pair. The woman on the blue's back waves back then the pair turn and drop down to a ledge on the eastern bowl wall. "And I dunno Kai, seems to me, there's a big difference between can't n' won't. See, if she /can/ do it, s'possible that there's a way to help her get there. But if she really can't, well then, maybe it could be that she can get through Between that way. But someone'd have to take the risk of jumpin' on that visual and .... it's a big risk."
B'kaiv turns to sit on one of Chielyth's legs, leaning up against the green in lieu of more active attention. "S'what I said, though. She /can't/. Know Mecaith's tellin' you -won't-, but you got t' listen t' someone else here. It's can't. Ever since she were little, like I said. It's - they got better, but they always been like this. Always. S'how she... s'how she does it. An' shells, you think I dunno what a risk it is? That someone jumpin' with her is /me/."
"Doesn't mean she can't," T'rev says with a shake of her head. "Because she can see the difference. So if she can /see/ it, then there's a possibility that she can do it," he points out thoughtfully. "Ain't it worth a try, rather'n just diggin' in and saying , can't can't can't?" he asks next, looking over at the greenrider quizzically. "I mean, that smells of givin' up. And you don't strike me as no quitter and her neither."
Kai shoves out all his breath in a rush and closes his eyes. "I know," he starts calmly, "It's real hard for you when people ain't as perfect as you, but you wanna stop for a second and think maybe someone knows somethin' you don't? Sir?" And hey, he ended calmly, too!
"This ain't about me Kai, dunno where you got the idea that I'm perfect or that I think I am," T'rev answers steadily. "I got plenty of faults, mostly I'm just tryin' to point out another way to think about it, so you can sort out if there might be another way to tackle this other'n Jantha's lines which seem to be boring her to tears n' makin' you cranky, see?" He shifts his feet around a little, increasing the angle of his lean against Mecaith. "Matter of fact, I guess what I'm tryin' to get at here, is that Chielyth might have somethin' to teach us all 'bout different ways of doin' things. It's just that ... someone might have to take a risk for you both to prove that that way of doin' a visual ain't dangerous. Or there might be another way to help her, other'n what Jantha's said so far. I dunno, but see, s'worth askin', right? I don't want to see you guys not able to join a wing because of this."
B'kaiv snorts at 'plenty of faults' and though his eyes open, his shoulders hunch. "Yeah, right. An' that -someone- is /me/. S'/my/ life I'm risking goin' *between* with her. Not you, not th' Weyrlingmaster, an' it sure as shells ain't gonna be Su. You say all this like ain't nobody ever thought it before. Shells, they been tellin' me her visualizations ain't gonna work since... shells. Day one, seems like. An' I been workin' an' /workin'/ with her, an' V'rel has, an' everyone, an' they /ain't/ /changed/. So unless you're gonna add th' Weyrlingmaster's knot t' your shoulder -too-...!" He cuts off then with a shake of his head, pushes heavily to his feet. "You can go. I can stand watch more, 'til Chielyth wakes up."
"No Kai, listen to what I said," T'rev says patiently, "I said /someone/ has to take the risk /for/ both of you, and yeah, I'm thinkin' about it," the bronzerider says all the more slowly, though there's a hint of discomfort on his face and he scuffs a toe against the rock. "As for those visuals, that's what I'm sayin' too man, everyone's been too close to it and shells no, ain't no way I'm cut out for bein' a weyrlingmaster," he says with surprising vehemence. "S'just that Jantha n' V'rel, they're older see. Maybe a little hidebound 'bout stuff," the bronzerider murmurs lowly. His gaze lifts back across the gap between himself and the weyrling, thoug he remains silent on the subject of leaving.
"Either it's gonna work, or it ain't, an' there ain't no way of knowin' 'til we do it," Kai says, folding his arms and likewise leaning against his lifemate. "Either Chielyth can do it or she can't, an' everyone says dragons can go *between*." Which earns another shrug for the logic. Chielyth is a dragon, dragons go *between*, therefore... "Ain't nobody gotta take the risk for us. Ain't nobody as /can/. S'just her, an' s'just me."
"Or until someone takes her visual and tries with it," T'rev counters, though his tone is mild. "Otherwise, you're right. It's your risk to take. But y'know, damn Kai, can you blame anyone for /not/ wantin' to lose you both?" A hint of frustration there as T'rev's arms fold across his chest. "D'you think Jantha'll budge, let you try if someone speaks up for you?"
The weyrling narrows his eyes at the Wingleader again. "Ain't plannin' on havin' her give nobody visuals. There ain't nobody as can make no sense of 'em. The ones as don't know her ask if there's somethin' wrong with her." The remembered indignity roughens his voice. "There's plenty who wouldn't mind seein' me go an' never come back." Not Chielyth, though. Whereupon he remembers, and shrugs. "Dunno. She told us t' start over from th' beginnin', only usin' these stupid shardin' lines instead of real pictures." If T'rev wants to beat his head against that wall, Kai'll step out of the way.
"Mecaith didn't have a problem with what she showed him," T'rev replies, head tilting again. "He says they're 'representational' rather than 'factual' but the guy's a walkin' dictionary so, y'know," there the bronzerider laughs a little, a fond note to it for his bronze. "T'any rate, he could easily translate 'em back n' forth between what she showed him and a real place. So ... Kai ... just ... there's hope?" He blows out a breath, nodding and shrugs. "Probably ain't a half bad strategy. Do that in the wings y'know, sometimes. Go back to basic formations when there's issues learnin' something new we been tryin' and gettin' stuck on." He's quiet for a moment or two. "If /Chielyth/ knows where she's goin' from what she sees, y'know, I don't see why it wouldn't work. It'd just be damn hard for her to pass on a destination to another dragon if they don't get it."
"Couldn't go *between* on it," Kai challenges as Chielyth snorts awake, pries open one eye, and slips back to sleep when there's no immediate problem. "Yeah, 'cept she don't -like- th' lines an' th' only reason she does 'em is 'cause Imoth told her to. You make her snap off somethin' fast-like, an' it ain't gonna be no lines. She gotta take her time when them, an' even then she says it ain't right. Only nobody listens t' her, or t' me, 'cause she's a green."
"Yeah, the lines are probably dead boring, but you know Kai, sometimes that's the way it is, you have to do things just because someone said. And no, she ain't goin' to be snappin' off lines quick at first, but I bet Jantha means if you work at it long enough, then it might start to change. It's just a hell of a lot of work, I'm thinkin'." T'rev blows out a breath, regards B'kaiv for a long moment. "You've got a real chip on your shoulder 'bout her color don't you? It ever occur t'you, that maybe people're listenin' but they just ain't /agreein'/ with you and that it ain't because she's green, but because /you're/ green at all this? 'Sides, how long we been up here now, with me listenin' t'you and tryin' to maybe work with what you're sayin' and what she's sayin' and what Mecaith's sayin' about what she's sayin'?" Pause, eyes to the sky, nod. Yeah he got that right, looks back down at B'kaiv.
B'kaiv says, "They /ain't/ RIGHT!" because volume makes for clarity; both of his hands knot into fists but he leans heavily into Chielyth's side instead of leaping for T'rev. "You /ain't/ listenin', I'm tellin' you there's a shardin' /problem/ an' all you're sayin' is t' keep doin' what I'm told. I'm /doin'/ what I'm told, but flame it t' -ash-, T'rev, /Chielyth's/ sayin' it -don't feel right-. How's anybody -listenin'- when they don't hear what I'm sayin'? You think I /wanna/ die?"
"Kai," T'rev says quietly, even as B'kaiv goes for volume. "I just suggested that maybe somethin' different ought t'be tried, or that maybe her way might work. How's that not listenin' t'you?" Quieter still: "No, of course I don't think you wanna die. But shells man, sometimes you get so stubborn about a thing. "And which is it? You just said that she don't have a problem, but now you're sayin' she does. And I /get/ you man, if she says it don't feel right. Mecaith, he's all about patterns and stuff fittin' into the pattern right. So, c'mon, calm down, think it through. What do you think /will/ work?" The wingleader fixes a steady gaze on Kai as he speaks, though there is an edge in his voice again, like he's having to keep himself calm too. "I'm willin' to jump with you. Put a safety on. So's we can pull you out if it goes south. Willin' to back you with Jantha. Willin' to hash it out 'til we get an idea to try. C'mon, Kai, work with me?" And his hand is extended to the greenrider.
B'kaiv strokes Chielyth's side again, rhythmic and repetitive, and doesn't answer for a long time. Perhaps he's going for extra-quiet? No, eventually he speaks, barely loud enough to be heard over the keen of the wind. "She ain't. How she sees things. It ain't no problem. What Imoth - what Jantha - got her doin', she don't like. Said from th' first she don't like it, it ain't right. Only nobody listens t' her, except me. 'Cause she's green, an' she's silly, an' she don't know nothin'." He sets his jaw at that and turns his face into her chest. "No, sir. If we jump, I'm goin' with her. All th' way. I'm her rider. Ain't gonna leave her alone."
"I didn't say you'd have to leave her," T'rev says gently now, after Kai gets to that part. "It'd be for /both/ of you, you ... dimglow," the wingleader says, though there's actually fondness in his voice. "See, I told you I'd actually call you dim if I meant it," T'rev tries to tease just a little bit and his hand moves, held out again towards Kai. "Why don't we start with Jantha, huh? I'll come with you. We'll talk to her. If Mecaith can understand her visuals, that means they can be understood."
B'kaiv only presses himself into the tiny green, letting silence rise between them. "Guess," he finally says gruffly, managing that single word after coughing his way to a clearer throat. "Long as you got somebody t' cover watch."
"Didn't mean right this minute, Kai," T'rev answers and his hand drops, sinks back into his pocket. "I'm already covering for someone who was covering for someone," he notes with some humor. "So. In the meantime. Wanna play a hand of cards?"
"Guess," Kai repeats, but it takes him a few more seconds to push away from Chielyth. "I told you you don't got t' stay." He squints at the sky and scrubs at his face, at cheeks red from the wind and cold. "You hear I don't got t' take no extra classes with th' Harper no more?" because this is a nice, neutral topic.
"Yeah, I heard. But she's sleepin' and it's dead boring up here," T'rev says with a grin for the greenrider. "And I /did/ actually, congratulations man. Did I ever tell you how long it took me to pick that stuff up?" As he pulls a deck of cards from his pocket and nods towards the bench over yonder.
B'kaiv says, "She hates mornin'. Whines and is real grumpy 'til she gets a nap at lunch." Or someone else comes to relieve her of duty. He gives her a fond thump and earns a mumbled grunt in reply before ambling over to that yonder bench. "Nah. Only that you went from backward nobody t' readin' ever'thin' you could get your hands on. How long'd it take you, any road? Two sevens? Three?"
"I know riders like that," T'rev says placidly about not-a-morning dragon Chielyth. "If you wind up in my wing, I'll make sure y'all are on night shifts," he jokes a little and throws a leg over that bench, straddles it to pull the deck out, starts shuffling. "Most of weyrlinghood, actually," the wingleader explains with a grin and looks up across at Kai. "I had to learn dragon anatomy by bawdy. Couldn't read the shardin' names."
B'kaiv snorts his own amusement for the joke as he too flings a leg over the bench. "So a whole month. --Thanks," he adds belatedly for the offer. "It ain't right, her poutin' an' stuff in my head. Ain't th' Chielyth I know. Ain't her. Name th' terms." That's for the game. "An' I don't got no marks, so we can't play for nothin' but tokens."
"Got a little better after three months, little more at half a turn, little more another three months after, by the end, couldn't stop me readin' if you tried," T'rev says with a little bright grin. "Loved bein' able to know /more/ about all the stories I'd always /heard/, y'know?" The deck is offered for cutting. "Five card stud, aces high, best out of three. I win you let me n' Mecaith work with Chielyth on them visuals, you win we go off somewhere's when she's asleep some mornin' and have us a real fight."
If Kai knows, he only acknowledges it with another single shoulder lift and peels off his gloves to cut. "What's work on them visuals mean? And it can't be no mornin' - we got drills an' classes an' duty if we ain't got neither of them. So she got t' be awake. Rest day, maybe, that might work. Can fly somewhere an' let her sleep while you an' me go at it."
"Seein' what happens if they trade 'em back and forth. WIthout someone pressuring her," T'rev says with a look across at Kai. "And got it. A rest day. Hm. We'll have to see if we can match 'em up. If you win." A wink there and he takes the deck back, deals.
B'kaiv only snorts. "When." Which is pretty confident, considering who's dealing. "We ain't got a lot of visuals, any road. Not as many as you." The cards skitter and slip; he guards their rest until the bronzerider's done dealing and only then collects the things. "Anyway," he adds out of the blue, "I ain't got no chip on my shoulder 'bout Chielyth. S'just the way things is. We bettin' anything? Or just goin' for th' best hand?"
"Yeah, have a lot to memorize," T'rev says with a loose grin to the greenrider, then shakes his head. "Where'd you get that idea, Kai? About greenriders. I mean shells there's enough greenrider wingleaders in the world ..." he trails off with a shake of his head. "Bet tokens for the hands," and the bronzerider pulls a pouch of such out of his other pocket. Apparently, he tends to travel with his poker gearr.
Of course he travels with his poker gear. Who doesn't? ...Besides most people? Kai repeats blankly, "Where'd I get what...? Oh." He folds his cards together while T'rev bestows tokens; immediately tosses two of the smaller ones into the middle. "Shells, man, ain't you never /listened/? I ain't never said nothin' 'bout no wingleader, an' anyway, I don't want it."
T'rev just blinks at B'kaiv and lifts a hand to rub at his chin. "You just said that you don't have a chip on your shoulder about Chielyth, that it's just the way it is. You seem to think that green means you're nothin' or that greenriders can't get nowhere. I'm not sayin' that you got to try for wingleader, just that greenriders /can/ be. The color of your dragon don't limit you that way. Sure, you can't be Weyrleader, but this 'it's just the way it is' stuff, is bullshit." And he raises by a token.
B'kaiv flicks another token into the middle. "Look," he says patiently, "Mecaith ain't green. An' Chielyth ain't bronze, so all I know comes from what I seen. But bronzeriders don't get in trouble like greenriders do. Shells, like any of th' smaller ones. They do stupid shit, an' they get a slap on th' wrist. We do th' same thing, we're confined t' barracks for a seven. You ain't never been...," he stops with a sour look and a shake of his head. "Never mind. I'm yellin' at clouds, here. Your bet."
"Ain't never been what?" T'rev asks, brows lifting again. "I'd have to've done something to get in trouble for, in order to get more'n a slap on the wrist," the bronzerider replies as he adds another token too. "Have Y'nolek or W'ton insulted someone in front of the Headwoman? And didn't W'ton get in trouble for something else?" His head tips to the side a little. "I mostly toed the line when I was a Weyrling. The one time I got in trouble, was when A'zan took us all to Crom to catch some thieves. That was -- complicated."
Kai doesn't bother picking up his cards again, but meets T'rev's eyes square. "Ain't never had t' listen t' people talk about how they hope their dragon catches Mecaith 'cause you got such a fine piece of ass. Or say they wanna transfer t' Southern when Mecaith gets proddy. Or say they wanna see Jaeyi's face first time Mecaith gets caught an' you got t' explain you don't do girls no more." He delivers all the insults in the flattest tone possible. "And them's the /nice/ ones."
"No, I've had the opposite. People snickering about him catchin' this or that green, and don't I want him to go up more? And 'Oh T'rev, won't you please /make/ him go up after my green, because you've got such a fine piece of ass.'" There's a little pause while T'rev re-arranges his cards. "Or all the jokes about bronzerider virility. 'Course, I am loose as they come," T'rev drawls out with a self-deprecating grin. "But it cuts both ways, Kai. At least Chielyth will only go up maybe three, four times a turn. Only two maybe, even. Most males chase more often than that. Even Mecaith, who barely chases at all." He looks off towards the open sky for a moment too. "Add in people wantin' to know when he's going to catch his first gold, or don't I want to be Weyrleader and there you go. We all got our share of talk to deal with, Kai. You can let it bug you, or you can let it go."
"An' now it's all about you again," Kai snorts, planting his heels and folding his arms the better to scowl. "Shells, ain't nobody as can say nothin' bad without you sayin' how you got it worse!"
Up comes T'rev's hand and he rubs at his chin, eyes B'kaiv for a moment. "Not worse. I'm relating my experiences just like you're relatin' yours. It ain't about /me/ per se, it's about realizin' that everybody's got tough things to deal with. And that people just talk. It ain't about her color, you seem t'think that somehow, ridin' bronze means some free ride ticket. It ain't. Bein' a dragonrider, any color, it's a tough road. I told you that when I Searched you, remember? What I'm tryin' to get at here, Kai, is simply to let it roll off. What do you care if a bunch of idiots say something dumb about you? They're bein' close-minded idiots, so just ignore it. You are who you are and you know that and so does she," a finger pointed to Chielyth. "That ain't never gonna change."
B'kaiv says, "Every time - /every time/ I say somethin', you gotta match it." He slaps one thigh and glares; Chielyth jerks awake. "An' /then/ you gotta say as how I'm wrong in th' first place! You can't never be wrong, can you? Always gotta be smilin', gotta tell people you understand, gotta be better'n everybody. Or maybe you just gotta be better'n me. Well congratulations, Wingleader, you are." He pushes up in one smooth move, swings his leg off the bench to abandon the game. "I got that. You don't got t' keep shovin' my face in it." He flings off a salute and stomps back to his green, back straight and shoulders set as he checks her straps.
"It's called havin' a conversation, Kai," T'rev says with a quiet sigh and looks down at the bench surface. "Y'know, every time I reach out to you to be a good friend this is what you do, you throw it back in my face," the wingleader says with a shake of his head. "It's not about anybody bein' /better/ than you, can you get that through your head? It's about helpin' you, so you're not so angry n' lost all the time. So you don't feel like you're the only one havin' to deal with things. But even that just makes you angry." He reaches out to pull the cards back together into the deck, wraps them and slips them back into the one pocket, gathers the tokens and slides them into their pouch. "It ain't shovin' your face in anything, it's reachin' out. But you're just bound and determined to put yourself down at the bottom of some imaginary heap. So, when you're ready t'stop doin' that, you just let me know. 'Cos ain't no one stoppin' you from doin' anything but yourself, Kai." T'rev eyes the angle of the sun and swings around to lean back against the wall. "I'll see you next rest day, if you like. We'll go beat the tar out of each other if you think that'll help."
"It's called /lordin' it over people/," the greenrider corrects angrily over his shoulder. "An' you're /still/ doin' it. There ain't nobody as is allowed t' think different'n you; you talk an' talk an' gab until they agree with whatever you say just t' shardin' -shut you up-. Only you can't see that, 'cause you're too busy prancin' around bein' perfect t' notice." As he speaks Chielyth rolls to her feet, stretches out her legs, yawns. Kai gives her straps one last tug and swings up, strapping himself in with quick, furious movements. He adds, "Clear skies," but that's for Mecaith, not his rider.
T'rev just waits until Kai's done, shakes his head. He does offer up a a "Clear skies", as the weyrling takes off, watches the pair off and tips his head up to the sky, quiet. Watching the incoming and outgoing traffic. Mecaith sends a warm sunbeam after Chielyth. << Until next time. I look forward to sharing pictures with you. >>
Dragon> To Mecaith, Chielyth projects, << OK! >> sounding much, much cheerier after her nap. << We're going flying now, with Naimath. Bye! >>
...Says he's listening but he /ain't/ he's just flapping his gums to make himself feel better even breaking his jaw wouldn't shut him up. Shells and -shards-.
Starstones, Fort Weyr
The Star Stones are located on a kind of stone platform on the rim of the bowl, with the time-honoured Finger Rock, Star Stone, and Eye Rock in their respective places. It's also a perfect vantage point to observe the goings on of the bowl far below. A watchdragon is generally posted here in addition to a few other choice locations along the rim of the Weyr.
Obvious exits:
Sky
Morning, just after drills have broken up, T'rev and Mecaith spiral down not to the ground but to the star stones, apparently intending to relieve whomever is on first watch. Did the wingleader pull the short straw this seven? Or is he filling in for someone? Either way, Mecaith lands lightly on the stones and T'rev swings downward, hiking his collar up higher and his scarf closer, though his "Good morning!" is jaunty.
Usually in the morning weyrlings have drills, but today Kai and Chielyth are up here, the green's eyes heavy-lidded with sleep. They're not precisely /watching/, either: the brightly-colored blocks used for beginning visualization training are scattered about, and it's those Chielyth is paying attention to. Not enough, though, for she turns eagerly to greet Mecaith's arrival while Kai tucks a cube between his arm and hip and offers a salute. "Mornin', sir. Mecaith."
"Oh hey, Kai, didn't expect to see you on duty," T'rev says with a ready enough smile as he strides over. Mecaith stretches once then bends down to investigate what Chielyth is up to. << Good morning Chielyth. Do you practice making pictures today? >> T'rev nears and nods acknowledgement of the salute. "At ease," he says casually and settles his own hands in his pockets. "Gettin' chilly ain't it?"
<< Yes, >> Chielyth tells the bronze, sharing both the silliness of it (she -knows- how to do this!) and an actual sketched image of the blocks as they were when Mecaith arrived. The colors are there, but the blocks are nothing but lines. Hollow. "We ain't goin' *between*," her rider shrugs like it's no big deal. "Might as well get some use of us." He relaxes into the cold, his eyes sweeping the horizon briefly before returning to the older man. "Yeah. Been here a turn now. Hard t' believe, sometimes."
Mecaith takes in what Chielyth offers with due consideration, turning the imagery over in his mind. Ultimately, his assessment, though gentle, is: << These are not complete, though the colors are very nice. >> T'rev rocks back on his heels a little, nodding. "Fillin' in for Meiry. She's got a bad cold. How come y'all ain't goin' between though?" he asks curiously, even as he tilts his head to 'listen' as Mecaith converses with Chielyth. "That long already? Don't seem it, no."
<< I know, >> comes Chielyth's immediate response. << Imoth says to do it this way, but it is wrong. >> But what Imoth wants, Imoth gets. Silly Imoth. B'kaiv thumps loose knuckles onto the hollow wood of his block. "'Cause she - Jan. Th' weyrlingmaster don't trust her t' do it right." Voice neutral and even. "Says she don't think she's ever gonna be able t' give visualizations."
Mecaith takes this in, no comment at first, just turning the idea around, turning the vacant shapes around, touching them lightly with sand and making them complete, then removing the details again, like a slideshow going in and out of focus. "Huh? Really? How come?" T'rev slants a curious look over at his bronze and Kai's green, squinting a little as maybe he gets a little bit of double vision going. "Whoa ... trippy ..." he murmurs under his breath, blinks.
B'kaiv lifts a shoulder, lets it drop. "You'd have t' ask her, sir. She's th' weyrlingmaster." At 'trippy' his eyes narrow, but he doesn't add anything. It's Chielyth who imagines for Mecaith the blocks in all their scribbly, full-color glory, and after them, the Star Stones from the center of the bowl, and then Fort Hold. They're accurate reproductions, if one takes into account the too-bright colors and the wobbly lines, just not the realistic clarity of most dragons.
Blinking a few more times, T'rev grins at Kai. "Mecaith was focusing and unfocusing on what she was showing him," the bronzerider explains. "Didn't expect to 'see' that when I touched up with him," he continues and takes a breath, head cocked to the side. "Well ain't that innerestin'. It's like a drawing ..." Mecaith whuffs once, lowly then takes one of Chielyth's shared pictures, the Star Stones from the bowl and gives it a little nudge, pushing it into 'focus'. Meticulous.
Chielyth huffs and looks away, off to the side. << Yes. That is what I showed you! >> There's a hint of flowers in her sending, the faintest wash of lilac and smell of lavender. "What d'you mean, s'like a drawing? It's..." He scowls at his inability to elaborate. "S'how she sees stuff."
"Yeah, she sees like it's been drawn instead of ... you know, how you and I see?" T'rev says slowly, considering what Mecaith keeps sharing and he leans against the bronze dragon's side, probably looking for warmth as the wind picks up a little. Mecaith's head lifts though as a pair of dragons pop out of Between and he lets out a querying sound, waits a moment then drops his head again. "Istans ..." T'rev murmurs, then re-focuses again. "She sees like that alla time?" the wingleader asks curiously. Meanwhile the bronze is doing that back and forth thing again. << Do you not see the difference, between /this/ and /this/? >> It's kind of like an eye exam. This one, or this one?
B'kaiv knocks on the block again because it's there. Shrugs. "Dunno. S'how - s'how she's always done it. Weyrlingmaster wants her t' do visualizations with lines instead. Somethin' about seein' the edges, only I dunno what she means by that." Behind him, Chielyth squinches her eyes tight shut, uninterested in the Istans. << Yes. That one, >> she waits for it to come past, << Is yours. The other one is mine. >>
"Huh. Tryin' to get her to see things more like other folks, most other dragons do, I guess. Mecaith, he's real precise, see. Maybe even more'n me. His visuals are really clear, like you're standin' in front of the place you want to go to, only in the air, y'know?" T'rev looks over at Chielyth again as her eyes squeeze tight. Mecaith leans forward a little, muzzle touching down to hers. << So you can see the difference between how I do it and you do it, but you cannot make your pictures like mine? >>
B'kaiv warns, "She's grumpy," even as Chielyth pulls away from the older dragon without opening her eyes. << They are -your- pictures, not mine! I want to do -my- pictures! >> Kai tosses his block into the middle of the others and strides to her, gloved hands reaching to soothe. His, "Figures," might or might not be meant to be heard. "I can always tell where she's thinkin' of. Yellin' at her, tellin' her she's wrong, ain't gonna make her - it ain't gonna /fix/ nothin'."
Mecaith, is a very very calm dragon and the pictures fade from view re-settling into the sands of his mental desert. << I merely ask the question so I can understand, Chielyth, >> the bronze says soothingly. << Your pictures are very lovely and I like looking at them. I just wished to know if you /could/ make my kind instead. >> Beat. << If you felt like it. >> T'rev watches Kai stride on over, unperturbed. "Ain't no one yellin', Kai. Or sayin' she's wrong. Not us at any rate. He's just askin' some questions. He's innerested and tryin' to get where she's comin' from."
<< If I could, they wouldn't be my pictures. They'd be yours. >> She bends her neck to whuffle her Kai, flops onto one hip and sighs. << I'm tired. >> Kai moves with the green, hands never leaving her hide, eyes remaining fixed on her as well. "Imoth - Jantha is. Or she wouldn't be havin' us do baby work. An' she," a tiny nod toward Chielyth, "Says he's," head jerk to Mecaith, "Askin' her t' make pictures different. How's that ain't sayin' she's doin' it wrong?"
<< Ahh I see, so then they're not yours anymore. How about making Kai's pictures if he makes pictures for you? >> Mecaith inquires next though he hunkers down in place, noses towards Chielyth comfortingly. << Have you been up here very long on duty, working on this? >> T'rev shakes his head a few times. "He asked her if she was /able/ to, not to actually do it yet. Or if she felt like it, if she would. Because he says, she said that she doesn't /want/ to, which is different from not bein' able to," the bronzerider explains. "And it ain't sayin' it's wrong until y'know, you say, 'that's wrong'." Both of T'rev's brows beetle on upwards a little. Usually Kai's the one who takes things too literally.
Chielyth complains, << It's moooooorning, >> as if being awake at this time of day is only one step removed from ripping off her talons. << And I don't want to make /Kai's/ pictures! >> A brightly colored something, moving too quickly to see, flings across the mental space between them. In response B'kaiv shushes her, his voice low, and extends his arms like he'd enfold her within. Calmly - or at least trying for calm - he says, "She can't. They all look th' same. Ever since she were real small. S'how she sees things, an' if she ain't gonna be allowed t' go *between* 'til she does it better, then I guess we ain't never goin'."
<< It is in fact, morning, >> Mecaith agrees and his own mental touch is soothing in turn, bright sunlight dappling down through palm fronds. << I like to watch the sun come up in the morning. >> He shares that picture, the sky, slowly changing colors, the sun lifting up over the edge of the Bowl, a sense of peace and new beginnings permeating expectant air. << Do they bother you, his pictures? >> Asked quietly on the heels of all that, perhaps when she's a little calmer. T'rev tilts his head back against Mecaith's neck, watching a speck approach and fly off: a wherry, flying high. "From what I'm hearin' him say, it ain't that she can't, it's that she don't want to. She doesn't want to take pictures from you. 'Course, I couldn't tell you if you'd come out of Between okay or not with a visual like that. Ain't never seen it like that before."
B'kaiv says bitterly, "'Course you'd listen t' him, instead of me," though his hands never stop stroking, moving, caressing sun-dappled hide. "I'm only her rider. Only know her best a' anybody." It takes long seconds for Chielyth to reply, and when she does, the sulky is muted. << No. They're /Kai's/ pictures. Kai remembers and he shows me and I show Imoth but he says NO and Kai says that's why I have to look at sharding blocks. >>
"Kai ... you're a weyrling," T'rev says quietly, "and you've shown for a while now, that you got problems with takin' things too literal, or jumpin' 'em up into what they ain't. 'Sides, if Chielyth told you Mecaith was been a stuffy-assed prig and I was sayin' he was just bein' polite, would you take her word, or mine, hm?" He waits a moment, his own hand sliding free of a pocket and drifting along Mecaith's side. "S'always useful to get a direct view from your dragon, dragon-to-dragon." There's another pause before T'rev goes on. "Once upon a time, turns ago, a girl I loved very much couldn't believe that I loved her, because I sleep around. Mecaith and her green hooked up like a bridge between me n' her. Let me /show/ her. Just sayin', sometimes it's helpful. Gettin' that perspective," he concludes, eyes steady on Kai's face. Mecaith sends a dry, warm breeze ruffling through, meant to be soothing still. << Blocks can be boring. Unless the patterns they're in are interesting. >> Sympathetic.
Kai cuts a look over at the question - he even has to /ask/? - but after a second his chin jerks up, acknowledging the point. << Kai remembers holding me, >> Chielyth answers, ducking around the topic entirely. << Does yours? Will he show you? >> Another second and B'kaiv returns to Chielyth, alternately tracing the play of her muscles and the patterns on her hide. "I ain't... I dunno what you're talkin' about," he admits, though with yet another shrug. "Since I don't think you're tryin' t' tell me you love me an' you ain't got no other way t' say it."
"Just an example," T'rev says with a grin. "I /like/ you, most of the time when we ain't gettin' our wires crossed, but no, no secret love thing over here. M'happy you n' Su are together and happy with each other and it's all sorted out now." Sincere, that. "Just y'know, you hurt her, n' you n' me'll be havin' words, or some sparrin' that ain't got no face rules," he says with a lopsided grin, though there's something serious, edgy almost in his tone. "Anyhow, what I mean, is that instead of translatin' through a rider, if your dragon lets you see direct into another dragon, or through that dragon to their /rider/ sometimes it can help to get rid of confusion about things. And it's why I'm listenin' to Mecaith here, because he's showin' me what she's seein' exact and tellin' me what she's sayin', exact." Mecaith takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly and the sunlight in his mind flares a little more brightly. << Of course. >> A moment later, there's an image from T'rev's perspective, baby Mecaith draped across his lap, a teenager's less muscled arms wound around neck and back and the slow progress of oil over hide going from dull to a gleaming sheen. There's also the sound of singing to go along with it, the boy's voice sweet but untrained, a lullabye. << If I think hard, I can remember that feeling. >> Quiet. << It is good. Safe. >>
Chielyth settles into that feeling, into her memories, a sleepy haze pulled over her mind. << Yes, >> she agrees, << Kai, >> and falls into a light doze. "I still dunno what you're talkin' about," Kai says, but some of Chielyth's rubbed off on him: he sounds more relaxed as well. "I listen in, sometimes, when she's talkin'. Her too. Only just 'cause you hear th' words they're usin' don't mean it's what they're sayin'." Another dragon pops into the sky over the southern bowl but Chielyth doesn't so much as twitch, leaving Kai to twist around and track the blue's descent.
Floating along with that haze, Mecaith keeps the imagery strong until Chielyth dozes off and then settles into his own thoughts, perhaps still contemplating the matter of the young green's visuals. "So you don't ever open up your head all the way?" T'rev asks next, brown eyes on Kai's face until that other dragon appears. Mecaith looks up and T'rev nods. "Geyonth and Opria coming home," he relates and lifts a hand to the distant pair. The woman on the blue's back waves back then the pair turn and drop down to a ledge on the eastern bowl wall. "And I dunno Kai, seems to me, there's a big difference between can't n' won't. See, if she /can/ do it, s'possible that there's a way to help her get there. But if she really can't, well then, maybe it could be that she can get through Between that way. But someone'd have to take the risk of jumpin' on that visual and .... it's a big risk."
B'kaiv turns to sit on one of Chielyth's legs, leaning up against the green in lieu of more active attention. "S'what I said, though. She /can't/. Know Mecaith's tellin' you -won't-, but you got t' listen t' someone else here. It's can't. Ever since she were little, like I said. It's - they got better, but they always been like this. Always. S'how she... s'how she does it. An' shells, you think I dunno what a risk it is? That someone jumpin' with her is /me/."
"Doesn't mean she can't," T'rev says with a shake of her head. "Because she can see the difference. So if she can /see/ it, then there's a possibility that she can do it," he points out thoughtfully. "Ain't it worth a try, rather'n just diggin' in and saying , can't can't can't?" he asks next, looking over at the greenrider quizzically. "I mean, that smells of givin' up. And you don't strike me as no quitter and her neither."
Kai shoves out all his breath in a rush and closes his eyes. "I know," he starts calmly, "It's real hard for you when people ain't as perfect as you, but you wanna stop for a second and think maybe someone knows somethin' you don't? Sir?" And hey, he ended calmly, too!
"This ain't about me Kai, dunno where you got the idea that I'm perfect or that I think I am," T'rev answers steadily. "I got plenty of faults, mostly I'm just tryin' to point out another way to think about it, so you can sort out if there might be another way to tackle this other'n Jantha's lines which seem to be boring her to tears n' makin' you cranky, see?" He shifts his feet around a little, increasing the angle of his lean against Mecaith. "Matter of fact, I guess what I'm tryin' to get at here, is that Chielyth might have somethin' to teach us all 'bout different ways of doin' things. It's just that ... someone might have to take a risk for you both to prove that that way of doin' a visual ain't dangerous. Or there might be another way to help her, other'n what Jantha's said so far. I dunno, but see, s'worth askin', right? I don't want to see you guys not able to join a wing because of this."
B'kaiv snorts at 'plenty of faults' and though his eyes open, his shoulders hunch. "Yeah, right. An' that -someone- is /me/. S'/my/ life I'm risking goin' *between* with her. Not you, not th' Weyrlingmaster, an' it sure as shells ain't gonna be Su. You say all this like ain't nobody ever thought it before. Shells, they been tellin' me her visualizations ain't gonna work since... shells. Day one, seems like. An' I been workin' an' /workin'/ with her, an' V'rel has, an' everyone, an' they /ain't/ /changed/. So unless you're gonna add th' Weyrlingmaster's knot t' your shoulder -too-...!" He cuts off then with a shake of his head, pushes heavily to his feet. "You can go. I can stand watch more, 'til Chielyth wakes up."
"No Kai, listen to what I said," T'rev says patiently, "I said /someone/ has to take the risk /for/ both of you, and yeah, I'm thinkin' about it," the bronzerider says all the more slowly, though there's a hint of discomfort on his face and he scuffs a toe against the rock. "As for those visuals, that's what I'm sayin' too man, everyone's been too close to it and shells no, ain't no way I'm cut out for bein' a weyrlingmaster," he says with surprising vehemence. "S'just that Jantha n' V'rel, they're older see. Maybe a little hidebound 'bout stuff," the bronzerider murmurs lowly. His gaze lifts back across the gap between himself and the weyrling, thoug he remains silent on the subject of leaving.
"Either it's gonna work, or it ain't, an' there ain't no way of knowin' 'til we do it," Kai says, folding his arms and likewise leaning against his lifemate. "Either Chielyth can do it or she can't, an' everyone says dragons can go *between*." Which earns another shrug for the logic. Chielyth is a dragon, dragons go *between*, therefore... "Ain't nobody gotta take the risk for us. Ain't nobody as /can/. S'just her, an' s'just me."
"Or until someone takes her visual and tries with it," T'rev counters, though his tone is mild. "Otherwise, you're right. It's your risk to take. But y'know, damn Kai, can you blame anyone for /not/ wantin' to lose you both?" A hint of frustration there as T'rev's arms fold across his chest. "D'you think Jantha'll budge, let you try if someone speaks up for you?"
The weyrling narrows his eyes at the Wingleader again. "Ain't plannin' on havin' her give nobody visuals. There ain't nobody as can make no sense of 'em. The ones as don't know her ask if there's somethin' wrong with her." The remembered indignity roughens his voice. "There's plenty who wouldn't mind seein' me go an' never come back." Not Chielyth, though. Whereupon he remembers, and shrugs. "Dunno. She told us t' start over from th' beginnin', only usin' these stupid shardin' lines instead of real pictures." If T'rev wants to beat his head against that wall, Kai'll step out of the way.
"Mecaith didn't have a problem with what she showed him," T'rev replies, head tilting again. "He says they're 'representational' rather than 'factual' but the guy's a walkin' dictionary so, y'know," there the bronzerider laughs a little, a fond note to it for his bronze. "T'any rate, he could easily translate 'em back n' forth between what she showed him and a real place. So ... Kai ... just ... there's hope?" He blows out a breath, nodding and shrugs. "Probably ain't a half bad strategy. Do that in the wings y'know, sometimes. Go back to basic formations when there's issues learnin' something new we been tryin' and gettin' stuck on." He's quiet for a moment or two. "If /Chielyth/ knows where she's goin' from what she sees, y'know, I don't see why it wouldn't work. It'd just be damn hard for her to pass on a destination to another dragon if they don't get it."
"Couldn't go *between* on it," Kai challenges as Chielyth snorts awake, pries open one eye, and slips back to sleep when there's no immediate problem. "Yeah, 'cept she don't -like- th' lines an' th' only reason she does 'em is 'cause Imoth told her to. You make her snap off somethin' fast-like, an' it ain't gonna be no lines. She gotta take her time when them, an' even then she says it ain't right. Only nobody listens t' her, or t' me, 'cause she's a green."
"Yeah, the lines are probably dead boring, but you know Kai, sometimes that's the way it is, you have to do things just because someone said. And no, she ain't goin' to be snappin' off lines quick at first, but I bet Jantha means if you work at it long enough, then it might start to change. It's just a hell of a lot of work, I'm thinkin'." T'rev blows out a breath, regards B'kaiv for a long moment. "You've got a real chip on your shoulder 'bout her color don't you? It ever occur t'you, that maybe people're listenin' but they just ain't /agreein'/ with you and that it ain't because she's green, but because /you're/ green at all this? 'Sides, how long we been up here now, with me listenin' t'you and tryin' to maybe work with what you're sayin' and what she's sayin' and what Mecaith's sayin' about what she's sayin'?" Pause, eyes to the sky, nod. Yeah he got that right, looks back down at B'kaiv.
B'kaiv says, "They /ain't/ RIGHT!" because volume makes for clarity; both of his hands knot into fists but he leans heavily into Chielyth's side instead of leaping for T'rev. "You /ain't/ listenin', I'm tellin' you there's a shardin' /problem/ an' all you're sayin' is t' keep doin' what I'm told. I'm /doin'/ what I'm told, but flame it t' -ash-, T'rev, /Chielyth's/ sayin' it -don't feel right-. How's anybody -listenin'- when they don't hear what I'm sayin'? You think I /wanna/ die?"
"Kai," T'rev says quietly, even as B'kaiv goes for volume. "I just suggested that maybe somethin' different ought t'be tried, or that maybe her way might work. How's that not listenin' t'you?" Quieter still: "No, of course I don't think you wanna die. But shells man, sometimes you get so stubborn about a thing. "And which is it? You just said that she don't have a problem, but now you're sayin' she does. And I /get/ you man, if she says it don't feel right. Mecaith, he's all about patterns and stuff fittin' into the pattern right. So, c'mon, calm down, think it through. What do you think /will/ work?" The wingleader fixes a steady gaze on Kai as he speaks, though there is an edge in his voice again, like he's having to keep himself calm too. "I'm willin' to jump with you. Put a safety on. So's we can pull you out if it goes south. Willin' to back you with Jantha. Willin' to hash it out 'til we get an idea to try. C'mon, Kai, work with me?" And his hand is extended to the greenrider.
B'kaiv strokes Chielyth's side again, rhythmic and repetitive, and doesn't answer for a long time. Perhaps he's going for extra-quiet? No, eventually he speaks, barely loud enough to be heard over the keen of the wind. "She ain't. How she sees things. It ain't no problem. What Imoth - what Jantha - got her doin', she don't like. Said from th' first she don't like it, it ain't right. Only nobody listens t' her, except me. 'Cause she's green, an' she's silly, an' she don't know nothin'." He sets his jaw at that and turns his face into her chest. "No, sir. If we jump, I'm goin' with her. All th' way. I'm her rider. Ain't gonna leave her alone."
"I didn't say you'd have to leave her," T'rev says gently now, after Kai gets to that part. "It'd be for /both/ of you, you ... dimglow," the wingleader says, though there's actually fondness in his voice. "See, I told you I'd actually call you dim if I meant it," T'rev tries to tease just a little bit and his hand moves, held out again towards Kai. "Why don't we start with Jantha, huh? I'll come with you. We'll talk to her. If Mecaith can understand her visuals, that means they can be understood."
B'kaiv only presses himself into the tiny green, letting silence rise between them. "Guess," he finally says gruffly, managing that single word after coughing his way to a clearer throat. "Long as you got somebody t' cover watch."
"Didn't mean right this minute, Kai," T'rev answers and his hand drops, sinks back into his pocket. "I'm already covering for someone who was covering for someone," he notes with some humor. "So. In the meantime. Wanna play a hand of cards?"
"Guess," Kai repeats, but it takes him a few more seconds to push away from Chielyth. "I told you you don't got t' stay." He squints at the sky and scrubs at his face, at cheeks red from the wind and cold. "You hear I don't got t' take no extra classes with th' Harper no more?" because this is a nice, neutral topic.
"Yeah, I heard. But she's sleepin' and it's dead boring up here," T'rev says with a grin for the greenrider. "And I /did/ actually, congratulations man. Did I ever tell you how long it took me to pick that stuff up?" As he pulls a deck of cards from his pocket and nods towards the bench over yonder.
B'kaiv says, "She hates mornin'. Whines and is real grumpy 'til she gets a nap at lunch." Or someone else comes to relieve her of duty. He gives her a fond thump and earns a mumbled grunt in reply before ambling over to that yonder bench. "Nah. Only that you went from backward nobody t' readin' ever'thin' you could get your hands on. How long'd it take you, any road? Two sevens? Three?"
"I know riders like that," T'rev says placidly about not-a-morning dragon Chielyth. "If you wind up in my wing, I'll make sure y'all are on night shifts," he jokes a little and throws a leg over that bench, straddles it to pull the deck out, starts shuffling. "Most of weyrlinghood, actually," the wingleader explains with a grin and looks up across at Kai. "I had to learn dragon anatomy by bawdy. Couldn't read the shardin' names."
B'kaiv snorts his own amusement for the joke as he too flings a leg over the bench. "So a whole month. --Thanks," he adds belatedly for the offer. "It ain't right, her poutin' an' stuff in my head. Ain't th' Chielyth I know. Ain't her. Name th' terms." That's for the game. "An' I don't got no marks, so we can't play for nothin' but tokens."
"Got a little better after three months, little more at half a turn, little more another three months after, by the end, couldn't stop me readin' if you tried," T'rev says with a little bright grin. "Loved bein' able to know /more/ about all the stories I'd always /heard/, y'know?" The deck is offered for cutting. "Five card stud, aces high, best out of three. I win you let me n' Mecaith work with Chielyth on them visuals, you win we go off somewhere's when she's asleep some mornin' and have us a real fight."
If Kai knows, he only acknowledges it with another single shoulder lift and peels off his gloves to cut. "What's work on them visuals mean? And it can't be no mornin' - we got drills an' classes an' duty if we ain't got neither of them. So she got t' be awake. Rest day, maybe, that might work. Can fly somewhere an' let her sleep while you an' me go at it."
"Seein' what happens if they trade 'em back and forth. WIthout someone pressuring her," T'rev says with a look across at Kai. "And got it. A rest day. Hm. We'll have to see if we can match 'em up. If you win." A wink there and he takes the deck back, deals.
B'kaiv only snorts. "When." Which is pretty confident, considering who's dealing. "We ain't got a lot of visuals, any road. Not as many as you." The cards skitter and slip; he guards their rest until the bronzerider's done dealing and only then collects the things. "Anyway," he adds out of the blue, "I ain't got no chip on my shoulder 'bout Chielyth. S'just the way things is. We bettin' anything? Or just goin' for th' best hand?"
"Yeah, have a lot to memorize," T'rev says with a loose grin to the greenrider, then shakes his head. "Where'd you get that idea, Kai? About greenriders. I mean shells there's enough greenrider wingleaders in the world ..." he trails off with a shake of his head. "Bet tokens for the hands," and the bronzerider pulls a pouch of such out of his other pocket. Apparently, he tends to travel with his poker gearr.
Of course he travels with his poker gear. Who doesn't? ...Besides most people? Kai repeats blankly, "Where'd I get what...? Oh." He folds his cards together while T'rev bestows tokens; immediately tosses two of the smaller ones into the middle. "Shells, man, ain't you never /listened/? I ain't never said nothin' 'bout no wingleader, an' anyway, I don't want it."
T'rev just blinks at B'kaiv and lifts a hand to rub at his chin. "You just said that you don't have a chip on your shoulder about Chielyth, that it's just the way it is. You seem to think that green means you're nothin' or that greenriders can't get nowhere. I'm not sayin' that you got to try for wingleader, just that greenriders /can/ be. The color of your dragon don't limit you that way. Sure, you can't be Weyrleader, but this 'it's just the way it is' stuff, is bullshit." And he raises by a token.
B'kaiv flicks another token into the middle. "Look," he says patiently, "Mecaith ain't green. An' Chielyth ain't bronze, so all I know comes from what I seen. But bronzeriders don't get in trouble like greenriders do. Shells, like any of th' smaller ones. They do stupid shit, an' they get a slap on th' wrist. We do th' same thing, we're confined t' barracks for a seven. You ain't never been...," he stops with a sour look and a shake of his head. "Never mind. I'm yellin' at clouds, here. Your bet."
"Ain't never been what?" T'rev asks, brows lifting again. "I'd have to've done something to get in trouble for, in order to get more'n a slap on the wrist," the bronzerider replies as he adds another token too. "Have Y'nolek or W'ton insulted someone in front of the Headwoman? And didn't W'ton get in trouble for something else?" His head tips to the side a little. "I mostly toed the line when I was a Weyrling. The one time I got in trouble, was when A'zan took us all to Crom to catch some thieves. That was -- complicated."
Kai doesn't bother picking up his cards again, but meets T'rev's eyes square. "Ain't never had t' listen t' people talk about how they hope their dragon catches Mecaith 'cause you got such a fine piece of ass. Or say they wanna transfer t' Southern when Mecaith gets proddy. Or say they wanna see Jaeyi's face first time Mecaith gets caught an' you got t' explain you don't do girls no more." He delivers all the insults in the flattest tone possible. "And them's the /nice/ ones."
"No, I've had the opposite. People snickering about him catchin' this or that green, and don't I want him to go up more? And 'Oh T'rev, won't you please /make/ him go up after my green, because you've got such a fine piece of ass.'" There's a little pause while T'rev re-arranges his cards. "Or all the jokes about bronzerider virility. 'Course, I am loose as they come," T'rev drawls out with a self-deprecating grin. "But it cuts both ways, Kai. At least Chielyth will only go up maybe three, four times a turn. Only two maybe, even. Most males chase more often than that. Even Mecaith, who barely chases at all." He looks off towards the open sky for a moment too. "Add in people wantin' to know when he's going to catch his first gold, or don't I want to be Weyrleader and there you go. We all got our share of talk to deal with, Kai. You can let it bug you, or you can let it go."
"An' now it's all about you again," Kai snorts, planting his heels and folding his arms the better to scowl. "Shells, ain't nobody as can say nothin' bad without you sayin' how you got it worse!"
Up comes T'rev's hand and he rubs at his chin, eyes B'kaiv for a moment. "Not worse. I'm relating my experiences just like you're relatin' yours. It ain't about /me/ per se, it's about realizin' that everybody's got tough things to deal with. And that people just talk. It ain't about her color, you seem t'think that somehow, ridin' bronze means some free ride ticket. It ain't. Bein' a dragonrider, any color, it's a tough road. I told you that when I Searched you, remember? What I'm tryin' to get at here, Kai, is simply to let it roll off. What do you care if a bunch of idiots say something dumb about you? They're bein' close-minded idiots, so just ignore it. You are who you are and you know that and so does she," a finger pointed to Chielyth. "That ain't never gonna change."
B'kaiv says, "Every time - /every time/ I say somethin', you gotta match it." He slaps one thigh and glares; Chielyth jerks awake. "An' /then/ you gotta say as how I'm wrong in th' first place! You can't never be wrong, can you? Always gotta be smilin', gotta tell people you understand, gotta be better'n everybody. Or maybe you just gotta be better'n me. Well congratulations, Wingleader, you are." He pushes up in one smooth move, swings his leg off the bench to abandon the game. "I got that. You don't got t' keep shovin' my face in it." He flings off a salute and stomps back to his green, back straight and shoulders set as he checks her straps.
"It's called havin' a conversation, Kai," T'rev says with a quiet sigh and looks down at the bench surface. "Y'know, every time I reach out to you to be a good friend this is what you do, you throw it back in my face," the wingleader says with a shake of his head. "It's not about anybody bein' /better/ than you, can you get that through your head? It's about helpin' you, so you're not so angry n' lost all the time. So you don't feel like you're the only one havin' to deal with things. But even that just makes you angry." He reaches out to pull the cards back together into the deck, wraps them and slips them back into the one pocket, gathers the tokens and slides them into their pouch. "It ain't shovin' your face in anything, it's reachin' out. But you're just bound and determined to put yourself down at the bottom of some imaginary heap. So, when you're ready t'stop doin' that, you just let me know. 'Cos ain't no one stoppin' you from doin' anything but yourself, Kai." T'rev eyes the angle of the sun and swings around to lean back against the wall. "I'll see you next rest day, if you like. We'll go beat the tar out of each other if you think that'll help."
"It's called /lordin' it over people/," the greenrider corrects angrily over his shoulder. "An' you're /still/ doin' it. There ain't nobody as is allowed t' think different'n you; you talk an' talk an' gab until they agree with whatever you say just t' shardin' -shut you up-. Only you can't see that, 'cause you're too busy prancin' around bein' perfect t' notice." As he speaks Chielyth rolls to her feet, stretches out her legs, yawns. Kai gives her straps one last tug and swings up, strapping himself in with quick, furious movements. He adds, "Clear skies," but that's for Mecaith, not his rider.
T'rev just waits until Kai's done, shakes his head. He does offer up a a "Clear skies", as the weyrling takes off, watches the pair off and tips his head up to the sky, quiet. Watching the incoming and outgoing traffic. Mecaith sends a warm sunbeam after Chielyth. << Until next time. I look forward to sharing pictures with you. >>
Dragon> To Mecaith, Chielyth projects, << OK! >> sounding much, much cheerier after her nap. << We're going flying now, with Naimath. Bye! >>
...Says he's listening but he /ain't/ he's just flapping his gums to make himself feel better even breaking his jaw wouldn't shut him up. Shells and -shards-.