[Log] Permanent watchrider duty
Who: T'mic, Aath, P'traul, Yjimeth
What: Yjimeth has been treating wingleader Varena to his thoughts on her drill style and P'traul's suffering the consequences. T'mic comes by to talk it out and Paul is full of self-pity, as usual.
Where: Star Stones, Ista Weyr
When: It is a spring afternoon, 17:48 of day 23, month 3, turn 19 of Interval 10.
The dry spring season relieves Ista Island of its humidity, replacing it with light, buoyant air. At the height of mid-day, a gray blanket of clouds dominates the sky and a good, stiff breeze cools the Weyr.
Someone's got to watch the Weyr while everyone else is at dinner, right? It's not always a punishment for bad behaviour... right? And it's purely coincidental that it's unfortunate P'traul and his brown chosen to do it; no bad behaviour reported (yet) although the weyrling-nearly-rider is looking terribly terribly bored as he paces the hot rock, every so often kicking a small pebble when he passes it until it -- plop! -- slides off the edge and then he's deprived of even /that/ amusement. Sigh.
Poor, poor P'traul. Poor, poor Yjimeth. Happily - or luckily, or the opposite of them both - Aath arrives with much to-do and flirting, ducking her head and crooning at the brown while Mic unstraps the single safety and slides down. "Want to talk about it?" are his first words to the younger man, and if they're a little shorter than usual, well, he was supposed to have seven days free of shepherding weyrlings, right?
That's right! Poor ol' P'traul, sorrowful-looking P'traul, who looks up with only the faintest of visible cringes when Aath makes her great showy landing and Yjimeth unfolds himself slow and long from his sphinx-like crouch at the edge of the plateau. "Sir," Paul greets with a salute no less prompt than deserved, only maybe one accompanied with a long-suffering sigh. "It wasn't my /fault/, sir," he starts, stops, and then starts again: "It's been so long since we'd shadowed Maelstrom I'd thought Yjimeth had completely forgotten about it."
T'mic doesn't even so much as glance back at Aath while she makes a production of mincing over to Yjimeth and settling in beside him. He does return P'traul's salute with one of his own, however, and sink down beside the taller man with only a little sigh and wave for the brownrider to not stand. "But he didn't," he supplies. "Well, I've already gotten an earful from Varena. Why don't you tell me your side of things?"
<< Aath. My greetings to you, >> Yjimeth extends, solemnly. << We are performing a punishment duty, I believe, although I do not know why. >> With a sharp frown cast over his shoulder, P'traul mutters, "Because you're a sharding bonehead, Yjimeth, that's why." And, louder, for T'mic, he says with a slightly more respectful tone as he folds himself up again and pulls knees to his chin, "Right, he didn't. Except he didn't /tell/ me what he was doing, only acted like everything was normal until I had her storm up to me and had me right by the ear. Thought he knew better. Yjimeth, I mean."
T'mic starts, "P'traul," but breaks off to lean back on his hands and consider the sky. Finally, "--What are you going to do to make sure it doesn't happen again?" while Aath makes much of Yjimeth and P'traul undoubtedly sweats. << -Really-?? >> she says of this great revelation, all wide-eyed wonder. << You do it so -awfully- well, Yjimeth. Is that because you do it so often? >>
Miserable: "'least I know which wing I'm /not/ getting tapped into." But P'traul looks up, looks over at T'mic with a faint crease to his brow and a purse to his lips. "It's not as though he was intentionally keeping it from me. Only that he didn't feel it was necessary to let me know what he was doing. I could -- keep closer tabs on him, I suppose, though I spend all last year trying to keep us /separate/." He tilts a look. "Is that was you mean?" Yjimeth, unperturbed by his lifemate's chagrin, replies, << We do not, >> although he will admit, << It is not terribly difficult. Do you serve as watch, Aath? >>
"You never know," the greenrider says mildly, still watching a wisp of cloud lollygagging around and hanging about. "And, hmn, no, that's not -exactly- what I meant." Now he does look over, his eyes a muddier blue than the clear azure of Ista's skies. "I meant you're going to be a full rider soon enough. You won't have me, or Paddy, or anybody following after you to straighten things out. I know Yjimeth, /you/ know Yjimeth. He's not going to stop doing things like this, so... what are you going to do to smooth things over when it happens again? Or do you -like- spending time up here?" He gives a nod 'round, which - to be truthful - /does/ have a spectacular view. << No, >> Aath coos, sparkling at him like sequins, << I am here for -you-. >> Or T'mic is here for P'traul, one or the other.
P'traul moves to protest -- that is, he inhales all at once, and sits forward as though he's about to protest, but instead once T'mic's finished talking he deflates into a rueful, hunched-over ball o' weyrling. "For the record," he will note in his defense, "it's not as though wingleader Varena gave me much of a chance to straighten things out on my own. But you have point enough, sir, and it's not as though I haven't sat through class after class of proper etiquette. Here /and/ home. She just took me off-guard. Mostly. Considering how Yjimeth is, though, there's not much I can do but go about apologizing in his wake. Is awfully pretty, though." Yjimeth inspects those sequins, somberly though not without interest. << For me? Why is this? >>
T'mic sees that incipient protest - he can't not help but see it - but all P'traul gets is an approving nod when he settles back. "Well, while you -do- have us, let's see if we can't figure something out. Unless you want to be permanently assigned watchrider duty. Varena doesn't appreciate interference." His grin flashes and retreats to something more appropriately thoughtful. "Sounds like Yjimeth caught you off guard too. You two talk, right? What about asking him about any plans he's working on?" << Because you're just the -handsomest- brown, >> Aath assures him, breezily overlooking the fact that he's also the only one. Well, actually within reach of her tail, which she curls about him. << And it makes me just -ever- so unhappy to see you up here all alone. >>
The young brownrider isn't wholly despairing, despite the anxious look he sends towards his dragon, and he scooches upward so that he's sitting just a bit straighter and cradling his chin in his hands. It's a listening pose for a moment or two before he answers slowly, "I'd rather not, no." As pretty as the view is! And Paul hurries to assure: "We do talk! Yeah. Not always about his -- master plans for the future, is all. But I bet it'd go over better if I asked him once every so often about it, right? Considering that all Yjimeth /is/ sometimes is interference." Yjimeth startles only slightly, responding in kind after a slow moment of thought with his long tail. << Ah. Well. >> Beat. << You are also. Lovely. I do not mind the lonesomeness, however. >>
"Probably," Mic agrees about talking to Yjimeth. "At the least you'd know what's going on, and could go talk first with whoever he's trying to fix, right? But you might be able to, oh, I dunno what he's like, but you might be able to work with him to make his plans work better, or - I know Aath would - until he forgets about them. Deflect." He grins again, all proud of his vocabulary, and glances sidelong to judge the effectiveness of his words. Aath likewise looks sideways at Yjimeth, though there's far more flirtatiousness in her eyes than in her lifemate's. << Why /Yjimeth/! Aren't you just the -sweetest- brown to say so! >> Let's just brush over the bit about not minding being alone, do. << You must be -ever- so clever to know what to say to me. >>
"Deflect," P'traul repeats with a laugh and a slow smile this time, agreeable. "Get him on to something else, at least, and stop microfocusing on one thing. Javeri kind of suggested that too -- well, about something else -- and I've been trying to put it into practise and so far it seems to be working." It'll take some more back and forth between the weyrlingmaster and weyrling, and maybe some reluctant agreements on Yjimeth's part as elicted by Paul, but eventually it's all worked out. For the present, at least: how it'll be put into action in the future remains to be seen, although the brown for the moment seems too content with flirty Aath to bother with any of that stuff.
What: Yjimeth has been treating wingleader Varena to his thoughts on her drill style and P'traul's suffering the consequences. T'mic comes by to talk it out and Paul is full of self-pity, as usual.
Where: Star Stones, Ista Weyr
When: It is a spring afternoon, 17:48 of day 23, month 3, turn 19 of Interval 10.
The dry spring season relieves Ista Island of its humidity, replacing it with light, buoyant air. At the height of mid-day, a gray blanket of clouds dominates the sky and a good, stiff breeze cools the Weyr.
Someone's got to watch the Weyr while everyone else is at dinner, right? It's not always a punishment for bad behaviour... right? And it's purely coincidental that it's unfortunate P'traul and his brown chosen to do it; no bad behaviour reported (yet) although the weyrling-nearly-rider is looking terribly terribly bored as he paces the hot rock, every so often kicking a small pebble when he passes it until it -- plop! -- slides off the edge and then he's deprived of even /that/ amusement. Sigh.
Poor, poor P'traul. Poor, poor Yjimeth. Happily - or luckily, or the opposite of them both - Aath arrives with much to-do and flirting, ducking her head and crooning at the brown while Mic unstraps the single safety and slides down. "Want to talk about it?" are his first words to the younger man, and if they're a little shorter than usual, well, he was supposed to have seven days free of shepherding weyrlings, right?
That's right! Poor ol' P'traul, sorrowful-looking P'traul, who looks up with only the faintest of visible cringes when Aath makes her great showy landing and Yjimeth unfolds himself slow and long from his sphinx-like crouch at the edge of the plateau. "Sir," Paul greets with a salute no less prompt than deserved, only maybe one accompanied with a long-suffering sigh. "It wasn't my /fault/, sir," he starts, stops, and then starts again: "It's been so long since we'd shadowed Maelstrom I'd thought Yjimeth had completely forgotten about it."
T'mic doesn't even so much as glance back at Aath while she makes a production of mincing over to Yjimeth and settling in beside him. He does return P'traul's salute with one of his own, however, and sink down beside the taller man with only a little sigh and wave for the brownrider to not stand. "But he didn't," he supplies. "Well, I've already gotten an earful from Varena. Why don't you tell me your side of things?"
<< Aath. My greetings to you, >> Yjimeth extends, solemnly. << We are performing a punishment duty, I believe, although I do not know why. >> With a sharp frown cast over his shoulder, P'traul mutters, "Because you're a sharding bonehead, Yjimeth, that's why." And, louder, for T'mic, he says with a slightly more respectful tone as he folds himself up again and pulls knees to his chin, "Right, he didn't. Except he didn't /tell/ me what he was doing, only acted like everything was normal until I had her storm up to me and had me right by the ear. Thought he knew better. Yjimeth, I mean."
T'mic starts, "P'traul," but breaks off to lean back on his hands and consider the sky. Finally, "--What are you going to do to make sure it doesn't happen again?" while Aath makes much of Yjimeth and P'traul undoubtedly sweats. << -Really-?? >> she says of this great revelation, all wide-eyed wonder. << You do it so -awfully- well, Yjimeth. Is that because you do it so often? >>
Miserable: "'least I know which wing I'm /not/ getting tapped into." But P'traul looks up, looks over at T'mic with a faint crease to his brow and a purse to his lips. "It's not as though he was intentionally keeping it from me. Only that he didn't feel it was necessary to let me know what he was doing. I could -- keep closer tabs on him, I suppose, though I spend all last year trying to keep us /separate/." He tilts a look. "Is that was you mean?" Yjimeth, unperturbed by his lifemate's chagrin, replies, << We do not, >> although he will admit, << It is not terribly difficult. Do you serve as watch, Aath? >>
"You never know," the greenrider says mildly, still watching a wisp of cloud lollygagging around and hanging about. "And, hmn, no, that's not -exactly- what I meant." Now he does look over, his eyes a muddier blue than the clear azure of Ista's skies. "I meant you're going to be a full rider soon enough. You won't have me, or Paddy, or anybody following after you to straighten things out. I know Yjimeth, /you/ know Yjimeth. He's not going to stop doing things like this, so... what are you going to do to smooth things over when it happens again? Or do you -like- spending time up here?" He gives a nod 'round, which - to be truthful - /does/ have a spectacular view. << No, >> Aath coos, sparkling at him like sequins, << I am here for -you-. >> Or T'mic is here for P'traul, one or the other.
P'traul moves to protest -- that is, he inhales all at once, and sits forward as though he's about to protest, but instead once T'mic's finished talking he deflates into a rueful, hunched-over ball o' weyrling. "For the record," he will note in his defense, "it's not as though wingleader Varena gave me much of a chance to straighten things out on my own. But you have point enough, sir, and it's not as though I haven't sat through class after class of proper etiquette. Here /and/ home. She just took me off-guard. Mostly. Considering how Yjimeth is, though, there's not much I can do but go about apologizing in his wake. Is awfully pretty, though." Yjimeth inspects those sequins, somberly though not without interest. << For me? Why is this? >>
T'mic sees that incipient protest - he can't not help but see it - but all P'traul gets is an approving nod when he settles back. "Well, while you -do- have us, let's see if we can't figure something out. Unless you want to be permanently assigned watchrider duty. Varena doesn't appreciate interference." His grin flashes and retreats to something more appropriately thoughtful. "Sounds like Yjimeth caught you off guard too. You two talk, right? What about asking him about any plans he's working on?" << Because you're just the -handsomest- brown, >> Aath assures him, breezily overlooking the fact that he's also the only one. Well, actually within reach of her tail, which she curls about him. << And it makes me just -ever- so unhappy to see you up here all alone. >>
The young brownrider isn't wholly despairing, despite the anxious look he sends towards his dragon, and he scooches upward so that he's sitting just a bit straighter and cradling his chin in his hands. It's a listening pose for a moment or two before he answers slowly, "I'd rather not, no." As pretty as the view is! And Paul hurries to assure: "We do talk! Yeah. Not always about his -- master plans for the future, is all. But I bet it'd go over better if I asked him once every so often about it, right? Considering that all Yjimeth /is/ sometimes is interference." Yjimeth startles only slightly, responding in kind after a slow moment of thought with his long tail. << Ah. Well. >> Beat. << You are also. Lovely. I do not mind the lonesomeness, however. >>
"Probably," Mic agrees about talking to Yjimeth. "At the least you'd know what's going on, and could go talk first with whoever he's trying to fix, right? But you might be able to, oh, I dunno what he's like, but you might be able to work with him to make his plans work better, or - I know Aath would - until he forgets about them. Deflect." He grins again, all proud of his vocabulary, and glances sidelong to judge the effectiveness of his words. Aath likewise looks sideways at Yjimeth, though there's far more flirtatiousness in her eyes than in her lifemate's. << Why /Yjimeth/! Aren't you just the -sweetest- brown to say so! >> Let's just brush over the bit about not minding being alone, do. << You must be -ever- so clever to know what to say to me. >>
"Deflect," P'traul repeats with a laugh and a slow smile this time, agreeable. "Get him on to something else, at least, and stop microfocusing on one thing. Javeri kind of suggested that too -- well, about something else -- and I've been trying to put it into practise and so far it seems to be working." It'll take some more back and forth between the weyrlingmaster and weyrling, and maybe some reluctant agreements on Yjimeth's part as elicted by Paul, but eventually it's all worked out. For the present, at least: how it'll be put into action in the future remains to be seen, although the brown for the moment seems too content with flirty Aath to bother with any of that stuff.