Who Phineas, Kezresan
What Phineas offers some emotional support and words of wisdom to a distraught Kezresan.
When Spring - Month 4 of Turn 2718
Where Library Archives, Fort Weyr

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Fort Weyr - Library Archives
Surviving the ages is something that books are known to do, especially if they are left untouched for just as long. In this room, that's exactly what has happened. Put aside as trivial information or simply determined old enough to not impact present day life, these numerous articles stored in ceiling high shelves are the forgotten histories belonging to Fort. Miraculously, the design of the room itself has prevented any of the books from damage. The rock base of which the room's foundation is actually one of the toughest rock known to man and cannot be surpassed by any creature living, while a layer of tiles of the smoothest stone gives this room a vibrant and mysterious appeal. The door itself on the room was sealed tight and allowed for a minimum amount of circulation, thereby preventing natural decay, although most articles may be brittle despite this. White marble has been used to create an insulating layer wall against the natural rock, giving the room an unnatural brightness and a enchanted atmosphere - while also giving it four distinct walls. The ceiling as well has been made smooth with an arching apex. As for the books and mounds of information stored in this vault of information, the organization is clear. Books bound with hard covers are kept alphabetical in the towering skybroom wood shelves, where step ladders and scrolling ladders actually attached to the shelves move to assist a person in selecting a volume. The shelves are ornately carved, many crafted with a mastery none have ever seen. Meanwhile, scrolls have a sectional shelf where each scroll based on how they were itemized has a cubical square into which they are kept in. This shelf alone has over a hundred squares in which the scrolls stick out of. As well, any loose bits of information have been assembled in files that are stored in boxes along the back wall. Apparently, recording history takes up vast amounts of space and every where one looks in this room one would find a wealth of information. The ancestors of Fort live here.


There are only a few places in the Weyr that Kezresan considers to be a 'safe haven'. One of which (the infirmary) is unfortunately full of people. Another of which is… no longer available to him. And so it is to the library that he retreats, finding solace among tall shelves and paper-bound books and the silence of a room typically devoid of conversation and crowds. A nook in the back, and while Kez might have a small pile of books to keep him company, he's not reading any of them. He's tucked himself into what would be considered a windowseat, if any sort of window existed in the space. Knees drawn up with arms looped loosely around them, back pressed against the stone behind, with his head tipped back and gaze toward a distant archway for lack of anything else to look at. But he's not really seeing that feat of engineering, nor the shelves of books that comprise the room. He's in his head, and the subtle signs of a recent emotional outpouring are clear enough for those that bother to look; the red rim of eyes and the puffy dark circles beneath, the disheveled nature that is somehow beyond the natural 'artfully messy' styling of hair. That no one is really bothering to look? That the library itself is almost entirely devoid of other warm bodies? All the better, as far as Kez is concerned.

Phineas is eagerly anticipating Nanny duty and has come in search of stories to read to the kids. He's been there for a while, more then long enough to have seen Kezresan come in and settle down. Fortunately, Finn is skinny enough that concealing his presence is easy. And, after a few moments of observation, he slips back out of the room. When he returns, because he had every intention of returning, it is with a thermos of klah and basket of fruits and veggies (and cookies). Without a word, he steps into the nook, sets himself on the windowseat and the basket on the floor. Pouring a mug of klah, he holds it to Kezresan in silence, turning his attention to filling one for himself before settling back to look at up at the archway, himself. He's there, either for silent moral support, or a shoulder should it be needed.

Kez was not expecting company. The acquisition of a seat by Phineas, nevermind the basket of goodies and the offering of a mug of Klah, has the healer-candidate sitting rigidly still and tight-jawed. He takes the mug, but only in the sense that his fingers find the ceramic and he assumes responsibility for the weight of it, keeping it from crashing to the ground. But he's staring at Phineas as if he can't decide whether he wants to say something or flee. But no. This is his window seat, and he won't be chased out of it, regardless of how uncomfortable having someone acknowledge his presence might be. It is after a lengthy, tense silence that Kez lifts the mug and takes a sip, head tipping back to stare into the room rather than at the potter. There is a surreptitious attempt at rubbing away the evidence of emotion, a scrub of fingers and palm over his face that is a clear case of 'too little too late'. It is only after another sip of that Klah that he thinks to offer a hoarse, "Thanks."

"No problem," Finn answers. He expected the discomfort. Heck, he'd expected irritation. He's fine with both and has no intention of going anywhere anytime soon. He does, however, keep his gaze on the archway overhead, content to wait it out while taking a sip of his klah. Despite his being relatively silent, he does nudge the basket toward Kez with the toe of one boot. Just in case a little food therapy is in order. It's there, if it's wanted.

This is weird. For Kezresan, this is very weird. Hot Klah and company aren't entirely foreign concepts, but hot Klah and company (nevermind that basket of food) in the wake of unprotected emotions? Very weird. And so after another sip, he's peering suspiciously at Phineas once again despite the other candidate's apparent fascination with the architecture. A beat. One. Two. Three, and Kez finally spits out an apprehensive, "Why are you here?"

Finn doesn't answer right away. Instead, he takes another swallow of klah, lowering the mug to set it next to his hip before turning a frank gaze toward Kezresan. "Because you are upset and hurting and sometimes it helps to have a shoulder nearby. Or a target to vent at. Or a distraction. Whatever you need is fine with me." And while the words could sound cheeky there is no doubt, with even a glimpse at Finn's face, that he's absolutely sincere.

"I don't know how to do that," admits Kez with a frown, eyes going to the contents of his mug as he swishes the hot liquid around for no reason at all. "Vent, or…" lean on a shoulder? Confide in someone? Both, no doubt. "But why?" A quick shake of his head and he clarifies with, "Why are you— are we friends?" Because Kez is baffled. Wrecked, yes. But also entirely baffled, and once more frowning at Phineas as if he's not entirely sure what to make of the other candidate.

Phineas stays quiet while Kez speaks, his head tilting to the side as he slants a glance at his face. "As strange as it may be? We're friends, yes. I know," he adds with a wink. "I'm an enigma. But," he adds. "I can be serious when the need arises and right now? The need has risen. As for how to do it? Just.. Talk. I'll listen and not a word of it will ever leave this nook." If Peter Pan wasn't good with secrets, everyone could get to Neverland. He does, however, make it easier on Kez by asking, "What happened?"

Kezresan accepts it. Even if he might have some lingering doubts as to Phineas' ability to be serious, he'll accept that they are friends. At least as far as he is able to understand the word. And perhaps it is only because Kezresan does need to speak that he allows the establishment of that relationship despite harboring reservations as to the legitimacy of that 'what happens here stays here' promise. What happened? "We had a fight." But that's not really… correct, and there's a pinched expression as Kezresan sorts through how, exactly, to explain something he's not entirely sure he understands. "I don't… have friends." It seems a good start, and so he continues along with, "But I have—" nope, that's not quite right apparently, and so there's a pause again and a frown and a study of the Klah in his mug. "Someone I care about said some things that… I guess I just thought it would be different." He knows he's not making sense, and there's a scowl as he lifts the mug to his mouth and mutters, "Told you I didn't know how to do this."

Phineas nods as he listens, blue eyes watching the stacks rather then Kez's face. Sometimes, he knows, it's hard to get things out when another person is looking at you. And as awkward as Kez might feel he's being, Finn sighs as he slants a glance at his face. "It's never easy when relationships falter," he whispers. "But you know, if he doesn't appreciate what he has in you, then that's his loss, entirely. You're doing fine," he notes with a firm look. "This sort of thing isn't easy to talk about for anyone."

A shake of his head and Kez clarifies with, "It wasn't that kind of a fight." A press of his lips and a moment of thought before he confides, "We were fighting about whether I would stay a candidate," and lest Phineas get the wrong idea, Kez is quick to say, "I offered to quit. He said… He was against the idea." And because Kez is pretty sure he knows the next question to come, he says firmly, "I'm not quitting. It wasn't… I didn't really want to quit…" A grimace, and he tips his head to peer at Finn briefly. "It was a moment of weakness. But it doesn't matter." That white knot is firmly on his shoulder and not about to go anywhere. "I guess I just…" a sigh, and he leans forward to fish a hand in that basket, coming up with *shock* a cookie. "I don't have friends," he murmurs, nibbling absently at his stolen treat as though it might help him explain himself. "I said some things and I wish I hadn't. He said some things I wish he hadn't." And a giant mess ensued. "They weren't… I didn't say something mean. I just— I was telling him about the eggs. That I didn't like them. That I didn't want to touch them."

"I understand," Finn assures. When Kez leans forward, his hand momentarily rests on his shoulder. In the wake of a gentle squeeze, he leans back into the nook, drawing one leg up to brace his foot on the edge of the window seat. "You have friends. You're not used to having friends, maybe. But you have friends." Which is not the point, and he lets it go with that. "You know you are not the only one who has thought about walking away. I have. I don't want to, either. But, there is a part of me that thinks I should." At the last, he frowns faintly, his brows furrowing as he laces his hands over the updrawn calf. "That egg was …. not particularly pleasant," he admits. "Some of them are alright though, there is one that is pretty funny. But the point is that you are under massive stress right now. If he's a rider? He should know that and understand. But again, these are just my opinions. Maybe give it a little bit and try to talk again?"

The insistence that Kezresan has friends? That has him frowning, puzzled. Such a foreign concept, and it has him somewhat resistant to the idea. But no. That is a topic for another time, when Kez doesn't feel exhausted and drained and a million other things that all seem to equal eating cookies and spilling his guts as if he were intoxicated. "He is." A rider. "I told him I wanted nothing to do with those eggs, and he told me to suck it up." And a few more things but really? That is what stuck out in Kezresan's mind. And the memory of it has his jaw tight and his hand briefly threatening to crush that cookie into crumbs. "I was not expecting that." The idea of giving it time? Of talking again? A firm shake of his head and an angry bite to the cookie. "I wish I hadn't said anything at all," he confesses. "It was all so much easier when…" a shake of his head and a slump back against the wall. "I just want it to be over." But lest Phineas think Kez didn't hear that little confession, there's a slant of his gaze and a flat, "Why do you think you should walk away?"

Phineas smiles faintly, his shoulders rising and falling in a slow shrug. "It's silly," he admits. "But I think riders should be.. More. More then me, at least. Serious, you know?" Frowning a bit more, he shrugs as he rests his chin atop his knee. "I know that they are not all what I think they should be, but I still think that they should be more." It's hard to explain and he gives up trying with a sigh. Instead, he tilts his head to the side, pale eyes watching Kezresan's face. "Are you in love? Cause, really? If you are then you really shouldn't let one disagreement come between you. You have a tendancy to be very… stubborn," he settles. "Not that that is a bad thing, but relationships require compromise. Is it possible that he just didn't want you to give up on something that you are so suited for? You know, people get heated about things that mean a lot to them. And shards, we all say things we don't mean when we're emotional."

"Ridiculous," declares Kezresan in a huff, scowling at his cookie for a moment. "This stupid idea that riders are somehow…" but he doesn't know what those riders are, except that, "We argued about that, too. This ludicrous notion that being Searched makes me somehow worthy… Dragonriders… They're people. Just people. You'd be better at it than me," he argues. "People like you. They enjoy your company. You're friendly, and you know how to be around people." And Kez? People are like a weird, foreign concept that he just can't wrap his head around. But whatever other arguments he might have given, they're effectively halted at that question. "What? No." The rejection of the idea that he is in love is immediate and profound. Kezresan actually leans back from Phineas as if he can flee from the very idea of it, a stricken look on his face as he quickly shakes his head. A scowl, and he decides, "You're not helping," before taking another stubborn bite from that cookie.

"People like me cause I make them laugh," Finn notes with a lopsided smile. "Most of the time they are laughing at me." He's under no delusions to the contrary. "I can be charming," he admits. "But I had to learn how to do that." As for dragonriders? He just disagrees on that, but his opinion is not really what matters. It's the response, however, that has him just watching Kez in silence for a long moment. "You're learning to be around people," he offers in quiet tones. At the last, he offers a mild nod, one hand moving from his calf to gather up his mug. "You can always tell me to get lost," he assures. "But that's up to you."

"People don't like me." He knows it's the truth, even if he's not always sure of why they don't like him. A shrug, and Kezresan lets that thought go. There are only so many tears that can be shed in one day. The final bite of that first cookie vanishes, and Kez leans down to claim another. "No," he decides, settling back in his spot and casting a quick look and a shrug toward Phineas. "That would be rude. You can stay, if you want." A pause. A frown, and he decides, "It's nice, to have… well. It's just nice." To not be alone.

Finn exhales a quiet laugh, the lopsided smile immediately twitching his lips. "I like you. Aignes likes you. Care likes you. I mean, sure, you are not like me, but really? That's a good thing. You always say what you think, you don't pull punches, you know way more than me about almost everything. It's nice." Shrugging, it's the last that inspires that smile to broaden, his chin giving a slow nod. "Good. It should be nice. You know, it just takes time, to learn to be around people. You've spent most of your life being serious, or so I suspect. Learning to play? Way harder than people think."

A new cookie in hand and Kez just frowns at Phineas as though he's trying to decide whether the other candidate is being truthful, or if perhaps this is one of those moments of sarcasm that he just does not understand. In the end, he just accepts it and shrugs. "I do know a lot of things," he agrees, taking a bite of his cookie. "But not everything… I don't know how to surf. I don't know how to — what is it you say? 'throw a pot'? I don't know how to do that," he points out. The pause comes at the mention of his seriousness, the cookie lowered slowly. "What's wrong with being serious? It's a dangerous world. You must take it seriously, if you want to survive. Play is…" a shake of his head and he peers at the library stacks. "Frivolous."

Finn is a lot of things. Frivolous. Wild. Carefree. A little irresponsible. But he is never sarcastic. Unfortunately, there is no way to communicate that, but time. In this moment, his lopesided smile immediately traces over his lips, blue eyes twinkling with good humor. "I think we did pretty good at surfing," he points out. "Couple more times and we'll be pros." Course, he loved surfing. And he had seen the smile on Kezresan's face and knows that he enjoyed it, to. "There's nothing wrong with seriousness," Finn admits. "But there is more to life then serious. Think about how you felt when you conquered that wave? I'm not suggesting that you should ever stop being serious, but there is nothing wrong with embracing moments of joy and laughter, as well. Sure," he allows. "The world is a dangerous place. Bad things happen all the time. But if you only live your life with that thought in mind?" Trailing off, he shakes his head, unable to truly comprehend the thought. "Play is necessary, Kezresan. Joy is necessary. More importantly, you deserve to have that in your life."

"I couldn't even stand on the board," recalls Kezresan, frowning into his mug at the memory. Oh, he had smiled. And he does recall the feeling of triumph that came at successfully riding the board, albeit on his knees, to the shore. He scoffs, a quiet huff of breath exhaled as the Klah mug is set aside and his arms cross awkwardly around his legs. "I'm not a coward. I don't go around afraid of the world around me," except maybe that stupid egg, "I'm realistic. And I have joy," he argues, even if he currently looks rather miserable, all puffy-eyed and disheveled. "I like my life. Why does everyone assume that I don't?" It's a rhetorical question, asked of the universe itself. Kez is not expecting an answer, and satisfies himself with a bite of cookie instead.

Finn smiles at the memory of surfing, his chin resettling atop his knee. "I'm sure you do like your life," he admits. "And I love my life. I guess all I'm saying is that it was really nice seeing you smile." Taking another swallow of his klah, he balances the half full mug on the toe of his boot, his gaze sweeping out over the stacks of books. "And if you are happy? That's really all that matters to me. If you're not? If you just need a laugh, or to do something crazy like a board hurtling on a wave toward the shore? I'm there for that, too. Just don't ask me to come in the infirmary," he teases. "I'm a herdbeast in the glassblower's stall." Flashing a cheeky smile, he tilts his head, blue eyes slanting a glance back to Kez's face. "As for cowardice? You saved us from that spinner while the rest of us were shrieking like girls." And he's clearly not ashamed to admit it.

"I'm… I have happy moments." It's not a lie. Kezresan does not want to lie. He's not always happy. He's definitely not happy right now. But he is not always miserable, either. "Isn't that normal? You can't be happy every moment of every day…" he's pretty sure it's impossible, at least. "You don't have to go to the infirmary," he agrees. But for Kez? It's his happy place. The place he feels embowered and completely in control. "I miss it. I hate this," he admits. "I hate…" but he shakes his head and lets it go, unsure of how to articulate what it is that he dislikes about his present circumstances. "It was an insect. It isn't as though I killed a giant feline. Just a bug." A big bug, but still. "And I didn't know what it was, when I killed it," he points out.

"I couldn't have killed it," Finn admits. "I'm terrified of spinners. I literally freeze when I see them." Shuddering mildly, he makes a 'Nnnghhh' sound before laughing. Falling silent a beat, considers for a moment before asking. "Is it just that we've spent so long doing busy work instead of our trades? I mean, I feel like that, too. Like, if they just had me doing what I do? I'd feel like I was contributing more then I am. It's frustrating." On that, he can agree. "But if you walk away with a dragon? It will all be worth it?" He thinks it will, but there are moments that he finds himself questioning it, as well. "Can I… Can I ask what he said to you?"

"When I was a child, my mother would take me out into the woods… I saw a lot of spinners," explains Kezresan. "After a while… they're not scary anymore. There are worse things." It is not an attempt to belittle Phineas' fear, but more an attempt to explain his own lack of one. That it is not through any sort of ability on his part, but simply a matter of desensitization. As for what he hates? "It just feels like I'm an apprentice again." It's the best way Kez can think to describe it, even if it leaves a rather lot to the imagination. A tip of his head puts his cheek against the stone of the nook, gaze turned toward the stacks of books and empty aisles of the library. "He… I told him about that egg," that egg, "How it felt to touch it," and reflexively his hand finds his throat before he can stop it. "I told him I didn't want anything to do with the eggs. That I hated this. Hated—" a shake of his head, and he scowls in irritation, drowning out hurt with anger. "He told me to suck it up and go back out there." It was, clearly, the wrong thing to say. "I don't need a dragon. I'm perfectly fine without one."

"Of course you are," Finn notes firmly. "You have a bright future ahead of you, whether as a dragonrider, or a healer, Kez." Falling silent for a beat, he draws in a slow breath, shifting his weight to settle his shoulder into the nook on the opposite side. "I finally got to touch that egg," he admits. "And I get what you are saying. It was very aggressive." Frowning a beat, he draws in a slow breath, clearly not comfortable with the sensation of being unable to breath. "I don't… I can't begin to make excuses for it," he admits. "It disturbed me, too. I can honestly say that I have no desire to touch that egg again, either. But that is not all of them. And Kez, while you might not need a dragon? I think any dragon that gets you is going to be pretty lucky." Falling silent a moment, he rolls his shoulders in a slow shrug, not really certain what to think of being told to suck it up. "Maybe he's forgotten what it was like to be here. I can't say. But I mean, that doesn't mean your relationship is over, you know?"

"He remembers," insists Kezresan, a stubborn set to his jaw. "He was extremely… detailed in recounting just how horrible the eggs at his own clutch were." As if that would somehow make Kez feel better. "I have no desire to touch any other eggs," he says firmly. A slant of his gaze toward Phineas, but it doesn't linger, if just because Kez can feel the stinging of his eyes and the threat of more tears and would rather try to stomp it out with righteous fury instead. "It doesn't matter," he decides at last, tossing the half-finished cookie toward the basket.

Finn? He's dealt with a lot of tears in his life. And he's dealt with all manner of reactions to his being to witness them. Fury? Or just full on sobbing? He's fine with either. Without a word of explaination, he sets his mug down and just extends one arm in invitation. Whether Kezresan takes it, or not? He still notes emphatically. "It matters."

Tears are bad enough. Knowing that the evidence of such is clear on his face, and now there are more threatening to come? It is almost more than Kezresan can handle. A weakness displayed that has him mortified but unable to do anything about. The offer of an arm is denied. That sort of vulnerability is simply too much. And while there's nothing he can do about the brightness of his eyes or the tightness in his chest, he still tries to mash it down. Anger is easier, and it's that which he calls up as an armor against the perceived weakness of tears and sorrow. So, he bites his cheek rather than answer, gives a stubborn shake of his head in lieu of words, and refuses to look anywhere other than the aisles.

Phineas lowers his arm, resting atop his updrawn knee without a hint of judgement. The choice, though, is not surprising and he gets it. He's there, if it's wanted, and if not? Well, he's still there. Course, Finn is a fan of emotion and does not, for a moment, see tears as a sign of weakness. "I have a friend in the laundry," he provides. "Say the word and everything he sends to be cleaned will come back orange."

That at least gets a look, confusion warring with misery as Kez tries to figure out if that is a legitimate offer. And it prompts speaking so… progress? "I don't… I don't think I want that." He's not entirely sure that's a fitting punishment, or that he wants to punish him at all. But the thought brings a moment of clarity, and a deep breath. "I think… I'm going to go for a walk." Fresh air, even if it's freezing cold. "Thank you, though. For the Klah and… stuff."


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