Log by Tarish - 10/29/07
Fort Weyr - Living Caverns
This cavern, having been created by bubbles in the volcanic flow of this extinct volcano, has a breathtaking ceiling — a vast dome that arches high above the heads of the weyrfolk that scurry around beneath it. A hollow echo can be heard from loud enough noises, and the chatterings of various firelizards are consequently multiplied into a chaotic babble. All in all, the living cavern is a loud place.
Tables are scattered around the room, apparently in no particular order. Over to one side near the kitchens, two medium sized serving tables are constantly spread with snacks, klah, and other goodies. The tables look worn, yet perfectly fitted to the atmosphere of the caverns. In the 'corners' of the cavern, smaller two and four place tables are set up for more private talks or just a less chaotic atmosphere in which to eat.
It's quiet in the living caverns, and a familiar figure can be seen slumped in front of the hearths, his fingers cupped around a mug that is in his hands. He slowly watches the steam drift upwards before evaporating into the air. Varryn stares indifferently into the fire, watching it lick at the air. The lad doesn't really seem to be quite himself, he's distant and a ghost of his usual self.
Nyxie has been kinda on the outs with everyone since the cave-in episode. She's hidden herself in a corner of the caverns, upset and not really up to talking to anyone. She's still afraid everyone secretly blames her for the entire thing, and pretty much keeps to herself, or has the past few days. Lighthearted, happy children? They're gone, at least it seems like that the way Nyx and Var are acting.
"Need.. drink.. Bah." The look on Tarish's face just has deranged alll over it. From her still-unfortunately-blood-stained jacket to the messy.. mess of her hair, nothing about Tarish looks anything like she normally does. Her boots clunk against the Living Cavern's floor with a thupa-dee-thub, and from her mouth, a hideous growl seems to unendingly emit. "Grrrrrrr." Her eyes purse, and, looking about, she spots Nyxie. Victim #1. "Still alive, I see," she lumbers at the girl, slapping her fists on her hips. Rut roh.
Varryn doesn't even lift his head as Tarish enters the living caverns, his eyes holding a distant look to them. The usually hyper, bouncy red-head is subdued. Fingers slowly clench tighter around the mug, his knuckles whitening and there's a slight flinch to his lips. He still has a bandage about his head, and his knee is still busted up ever so slightly, and numerous scratches and bruises can be seen on what flesh isn't covered by clothes. But at least he's not severely hurt.
V'gay has left Limerith on the sands, grumpy dragon is now happy to be back watching over his babies and V'gay is making his way into the caverns. Seems he's not too thrilled. Out and about working on a few things and he comes back to disaster. Leave the Weyr for a little bit and it falls apart.
Nyxie is already depressed enough, but now she has a Tarish on her case. "Duh, unfortunately I am still alive." she responds, her voice on the borderline of either dull or upse. More dull I think. No emotion in her voice, nothing on her normally cheery features. "Lemmie alone." she grumps, looking away. The bandage around her own head is a little blood stained from when the healer's changed it last. Her own self is pretty tattered and her calm is extremely frayed. Kinda sad, really.
Br'yn has arrived.
"Aw, c'mon, kid," Tarish states with a roll of her eye, collapsing into a chair and waving her hands through the air. "Life ain't so bad. You're alive. You're a candidate. Wiyaneth hasn't chomped you, yet. And your best coat isn't stained with blood." Shaking her jacket with a creepy jiggle, she looks about. Ugh, just what she wanted, a depressed little weyrbrat. "Yoo hoo! With the red hair!" She snaps with a bit of a whistle at Varryn. "You don't look so glum, either. I didn't work my butt half off to get you out just so you could sit around like lumps and make the Weyr look dirty." She doesn't notice V'gay for the time being, as she's trying to be a nasty little cheerer.. upper.. Yeah.
Of course, one not so thrilled Weyrleader is even less thrilled now as he catches Tarishs' little speech. V'gay heads up towards Tarish, coming up from behind "And just who died and made you Weyrwoman?" he asks, his eyes narrowing a bit as he looks at the two kids and then back at Tarish. "I know you've issues, but I didn't think you'ld stoop to terrorizing kids."
Nyxie shrugs a shoulder, "Yeah, but it was my fault we were there, and my fault the tunnel collapsed. It wasn't safe and stuff," she responds, her voice low, glum. She's really not even attempting to defend herself. "And thats the problem, I am alive, and Bunchard is not." she adds quietly. Heck, she dosen't even respond to the 'dirty' comment. Nope, she just accepts it all. Nyx shrugs a little at V'gay, "She's not terrorising. I'm the terrorist here." Not that it wasn't an /accident/ Nyx, but oh well, you know.
Varryn doesn't acknowledge Tarish's words, only pulling his legs tighter to his chest and csting his head aside to avoid her speach, wrapping his arms around his head in an attempt to hide his face, only his red hair can be seen sticking out from the candidate's head.
Blink. Blink. Ugh. Just what she needed. Turning her eyes up to peer at V'gay, Tarish looks just a bit miffed, but a lot more paranoid. "I uh.. Sorry, Weyrleader," she mutters, biting her lower lip. "Just.. tryin'.. t'help.." Unfortunately, that may be the truth; Tarish is a huge stranger to being 'comforting', especially to children. She didn't have much of a childhood herself. "Moping never helped anybody.." she mutters softly for V'gay's ears, but, upon hearing Nyxie, she gulps something down in her throat. "Aw, c'mon, kid." She waggles a finger at Nyxie. "You didn't know the rock would collapse, you didn't do anything wrong, so convincing yourself you did is the only harm you're doing right now. We were able to save your lives and the lives of others. It could've been.." She flinches. "A lot worse." Rolling her eyes, and flinching a little at the fact she actually has to *try* to be nice, she reaches over and with a slightly dirty hand, pats Varryn on the top of his red hair. Her green eyes turn up to V'gay, and she smirks. See? I can be nice. Smirkity smirk.
V'gay arches a brow as he watches Tarish. He's certainly not looking at all appeased. However, he leaves it for the moment and glances over at Nyxie. "Fine. It was your fault you were there. Could have been someone else as well. Yes, someone died and it's not a fun experiance. And unless you planned to get Bouchard killed then you are not a terrorist. Course, if you're really wanting punishment then perhaps you can be of help in the infirmary. Fetch and carry for those who can't get out and about and keep them company as needed." A glance towards Varryn "Might drag him with you as well." He glances back at Tarish and then he simply smiles "Course I could use your talents as well in helping out and being nice. Old Garnier broke his hip last year, but it's never been the same. This winter he's been having some ambulatory problems. He's just a slight thing, not too heavy, I'm sure you shouldn't have much problem getting him around and making sure he's bathed properly."
There's no immediate comment from Br'yn when the bronzerider strides into the living caverns, the wingleader ruffling out his beaded hair as he exhales shortly. He glances in the direction of the others, hazel eyes unreadable, only to make a soft sound in his throat while he hunts down the elusive klah pot. It isn't abnormal for Br'yn to shuffle in at odd hours of the day looking as if he's just rolled out of bed and beeline for the klah, so today isn't particularly out of the ordinary; he doesn't even have his normal riding gear on, instead sporting simplistic denim slacks and an odd, tunic-cut style shirt that looks to be Igenite in cut. Yawning even as he pours himself a mug, he stares blankly at the steaming klah until satisfied with the volume, then proceeds to weigh it down with a heft dose of creamer and sweetener.
Nyxie just starts to cry then. The tears start to roll down her face and she sniffs once every so often. The world seems awful right now. She doesn't sob, moan, whimper or whine. She just starts to cry, her chin trembling as she struggles to hold back said tears. She cries for Bunchard, and the others who were in the tunnel and injured. She cries for herself, and for Varryn who looks as horribly depressed as she feels. And she cries because V'gay is a meanie and he sounds very blameful, but she'd expected to get in a lot more trouble and it feels like she's waiting for the other shoe to drop now. The fact that she's at least silent is a good sign, right? Errr, wait. Instead, she hides her face in her knees, kinda like Varryn.
Varryn lifts his head as he hears the weyrleader's words, lips pursing tightly as the hand ruffles his hair. And, without a word, he stands to his feet, shoving his hands into his pockets and starts to walk across the room, as if heading towards the infirmary.
Oh, she wants to lash out. If it wasn't for Bellanne, there would be nothing stopping Tarish from bounding up and sticking her nonesense into the Weyrleader's face; but, for the faith of what few friend (yes, singular) she has, she bites her tongue, and simply glares. Hey. You can't get kicked out of the Weyr for glaring.. can you? "I will, /Weyrleader/, when I have time to rest from my /last/ chore. I'm sure you wouldn't want to overwork your candidates, would you?" Suddenly, Nyxie begins to cry. "Look!" Tarish says, pointing a finger at Nyxie. "You made her cry!.." .. You git. Cough. "And you think /I'm/ being mean," she mutters under her breath, wrapping an around around Nyxie. "Aw, hon, he didn't mean it, take your time, it's ooooo kaaaaay." Snort. Sure it is. Tarish doesn't really care; but, in light of the fact that she doesn't want to seem cold in front of the bronzerider (plus one), she nods her head in the direction of Varryn, and stares firmly at V'gay. Looks like he needs to go chase someone down. Naah naah.
V'gay shrugs a bit at Tarish "Oh you won't be overworked. I'll see that your duties get switched. Though they don't seem to be too overwhelming since you're here and not out doing others. But tell you what. Since you like your other chorse so much, lets just make it duties bathing the oldtimers for the next week. Make sure you dry them good as well, some of them with extra folds tend to get rashes." he looks at Nyxie "Actually, crying won't hurt her much. Good to get it out. Still, you did cause trouble and you have to face the consequences of it. Crying won't bring him back, but if you learned something, then his death won't be in vain. Perhaps you can take some lessons from the miners so you know why things might have collapsed and perhaps help prevent something in the future." A glance towards Varryn "And you may want to look out for your friend there."
Nyxie latches on to poor Tarish like an evil child-leach and hugs her for a few minutes. Then she releases her just as quickly and tucks her hands away in her pockets and listens to V'gay a few moments before she just nods to the Weyrleader and, still teary, she slips from where she is and moves over towards Varryn and frown, unsure of how to approach him. Instead, she stands there dumbly for a few minutes before her trembling, soft voice reaches out to him. "Varryn?" She pauses and then just simply states, "I'm sorry I got you into that mess." And thats it, her eyes lower to the ground.
A dark color crosses over Tarish's already dark-skinned face. "Are you /punishing/ me for trying to /care/? Simply because I'm unorthadox?" Squeezing Nyxie's shoulders a bit tighter, her free arm leans up to wag her free finger at V'gay. "No, don't tell me. You have a personal grudge and just want to upset me. Or, did Elara put you on it? Ech. Whatever. You just don't like me." Tarish glowers at the bronzerider, before standing and crossing her arms. "Classic of you bronzeriders. Even J'xmi can't get it through his mind that I'm actually a candidate. Everybody's /so/ surprised. Or horrified that I'm going to be here that long." Rolling her eyes, she looks over at Br'yn, and snorts. "Also tryin' to make me look bad in front of the cutie," she notes, nodding her head at Br'yn, still speaking to V'gay. It's a conspiracy, it is. She watches after Nyxie, but, still just stares at V'gay with one eyebrow raised, arms crossed.
Varryn stops when he hears Nyxie's voice, head ducking ever so slightly, "It's not your fault." And that it is all that is said on Varryn's part before the candidate is out the door, eerily silent for those that know him well enough.
Varryn moves down to the Lower Caverns.
Varryn has left.
Br'yn holding the mug of klah in his hand, Br'yn glances over his shoulder at the group before he meanders over, his demeanor not much different than usual. He's calm, quiet, a bit tired, generally amiable in appearance. He takes a drink of his klah and focuses his hazel eyes first on Nyxie, then on Tarish, the expression in them far at odds with his exterior. He's angry. Angry enough for his bronze to stick his big head in here and eat them both if the universe requires. He glances aside at V'gay, but then he licks his upper lip and looks at them both once more, speaking calmly, evenly, in his smooth, pleasant baritone, "K'ori reports to me. This entire accident could've been prevented." He points his mug almost casually at Tarish, his brows twitching as he says, "Unless you're five turns, perhaps you should close your mouth until you've learned another speech pattern beyond incessant whine. Frankly, I don't care if you're here for the next few days, or the next few turns." Nodding to Nyxie afterwards, he adds, in that same almost monotonal voice, "The reason people got hurt, killed, is because two children didn't have the good sense to listen to someone's advice. There's no point trying to soften that. All that can be hoped is that next time someone says 'don't do that, it's dangerous' someone will be clearheaded enough to actually pay attention." Yes, the older bronzerider is done, now, seemingly with the entire conversation, if not every person involved. The last time Br'yn got angry was about seven turns ago. It builds, you see.
Nyxie turns her head and looks positively /afraid/ of Br'yn. She listens, and nods, her chin trembling again, and then she stares after Varryn a moment, seemingly deciding something and then she suddenly bolts off towards the Infirmary, a girl on a mission. No, she's definately gone, either afraid of Br'yn or, well, we're not considering any alternatives. She looked plenty scared of the bronzerider.
V'gay snorts a little "No, Elara did not put me up to it as you say. Actually look at it as an excercise in diplomacy, and you can actually learn something from the experiance if you get the chip off your shoulder. Course, if you want to piss and moan your way through it. That's your choice. Though I'll warn you that a number of them can piss and moan a lot worse than you, along with doing it literally, one of the things they use to get back at you is their bodily functions. After you just cleaned them. But I do expect you to get it done, whether or not you like it and." pause, look around and a smile "And Br'yn isn't just cute. He's hot and you better remember that." Pause, frown and sigh "Not that I can do anything about it anymore." He then nods at Br'yns words "There is no point in coating it all nice and sweet. Bad things happen. We have to get past it and get on and not do it again."
Nyxie moves down to the Lower Caverns.
Nyxie has left.
V'gay then turns and heads back outside and towards the hatching sands. Time to curl up with is dragon.
V'gay has disconnected.
"I… I…" Whine. Tarish pouts her lower lip, flopping back down into her chair and thumping her head against the table. "Why.. why.. why.." Since she walked into this Weyr she hasn't had one moment where someone wasn't jumping down her back, and for one moment.. It starts to get to her. She almost breaks down. Almost. Biting her lip, a small grumble is heard beneath the table, before she abruptly sits back up, and stares at Br'yn. "Yes. /Sir/. Mind telling me your name so I know what to call the attractive man that decided to shove his plug into my attitude? Or are you going to ignore me now and send me off to clean old folks because you don't like me like /him/." She growls, before, once again, slams her face down into the table, and begins to moan. "Just one moment. Just. One." What she's talking about? Who knows.
Br'yn plants his hand on the tabletop, bending at the waist and setting his klah mug down so that he can hold up his free hand, index finger lifted and eyes all but boring into Tarish in a fashion most wouldn't assume him capable of. Keeping his voice even, if lower now, he says, slowly and with care, "Politely. If you can ask me politely, without lamenting your obvious mistreatment, then I'll answer the question." He adds, those eyes narrowing just enough to be noticable, to suggest that something more is to come, "Otherwise, you'll be praying for old people to wash by the time I've finished the list of punishments you can do along with those two." He enunciates his next words carefully, sounding them out as if it hurt just to have to speak any more, "You. Are. Acting. Like. A. Child. It doesn't matter whether I like V'gay or not. He's the Weyrleader. Show him respect. His life is about twenty times more complicated than yours and he'd stick his neck out for you in an instant if there was a valid reason. You owe him the decency of character to at least behave like an adult."
Meep. Tarish doesn't even bother to lift her head; it remains on the table, a low hum still coming from her mouth. Remembering J'xmi's advice, she begins to count to ten slowly, and, by the time she hits the number, she raises her head, blinks, and gives Br'yn a long, hard stare. Oh Faranth. Another bronzerider that hates her guts. Great. "I apologize… W.. Wingleader?" She mumbles, trying to tell what his knot is; she's still a tad unfamiliar with Weyr knots, but, she makes that guess. "I've just.. had a few difficulties over the last few sevendays. I'm neither appreciated nor liked, and I see no reason why I should change such at this point," she shrugs, thumbing her fingertips along the edge the table. "/Everyone's/ in a bad mood. Someone's gotta be the cushion to yell at, right? I'm.. tempermatic relief." Looking up again, she smiles, but with that smirky, evil-grin; even if it is the most attractive expression that can exist on her face. "Take a seat. You could use it. I'm.. Tarish." If he didn't already guess. "You are…?"
Br'yn is just barely wearing his knot at the moment, dressed casually in those fitting denim slacks and a clingy black sweater, even his beaded hair only casually done with less there than usual. He responds to the stare unflinchingly, but when she switches gears from loudly lamenting to self-deprecatingly so, he states, simply, "That's an excuse. I'm not angry at you because of other things, though it may be exaggerated at the moment. I'm angry at you for complaining about things that weyrbrats don't even think twice about, and for trying to stand up for someone who needs to learn that her actions are the cause of consequences. I don't get angry at people for the sole reason of being angry at them." He's calm, still, but eventually he does straighten, picking up his klah again and taking a long, quiet drink, shaking his bangs from his eyes and continuing afterwards, "I do apologize for the exaggeration, however. K'ori's injuries on top of the smith's and the death have struck a personal note." Finally offering her a hand, he introduces himself in a fashion that might explain some of it, "I'm Br'yn, bronzerider and leader of the Search and Rescue Wing, ex-Weyrleader of the Weyr where K'ori Impressed." Once introductions are made, he takes that seat, settling into it calmly and ruffling his hair away from his face with long, deft fingers, "Despite the less than amiable start of the conversation, it's a pleasure to meet you, Tarish." This last even earns her a smile, albeit a tired one, a fairly pleasant expression, even if he was angry only a couple minutes ago.
Tarish tries not to frown, but the tense and hurt look on her face remains, which she couples with cocking her brows and simply listening to the bronzerider as he speaks. "You may speak the truth, but I'm done being talked down to. Like I'm unimportant, and trivial. And if /someone/ doesn't stick up for those kids at some rate, they may be scarred for life of guilt, and I tell ya.. It's not fun. Everybody's effected by the cave-in. Someone /died/. But, did she really know any better? Not to mention," she snorts, with a sly smile on her face. "I gotta sleep in the same room as her until the hatching, it's my preference not to have sniffling every night. Tragedy breeds strength, but.. They're just /kids/." Setting her elbows down on the table, she sets her head in her hands, and sighs. "But, eh. What do I know, I'm just a gambler. All I know is that from the moment I've gotten here, I haven't gotten a break. I almost wish I hadn't been Searched, so I could leave, like I was supposed to, but.." Her head raises out of her hands. "From a different Weyr? Why'd you come.. here?" She seems a bit puzzled, but she shrugs. "Well, I'm sure I'll get over it, don't worry, WIngleader. Would be better if'n I had a drink, but.. I'm not allowed too much of that, either." With a sigh, she looks the bronzerider over; yes, she's checking him out. "Br'yn. Hmm. Well. I hope you don't take too much offense from me. I just try to do my part. But.. I'm just a Candidate."
Br'yn crosses his legs, one over the other, and rests his hand on the table as he relaxes into the chair, tapping his index finger against the top of it while actually listening to Tarish. He lets her finish before he speaks himself, informing her, his voice low still and husky, though this last seems to be the natural sound of it, "K'ori warned Nyxie and Rhoslyn implicitly that what they were doing was a bad idea. They rebuked and ignored him. They insulted him. They deserve to be scarred by guilt - it's the only way, it seems, that either of them will think twice next time, will recognize their own vulnerabilit and, in some instances, ignorance. I can't simply write it off the way others seem so willing to. It may not be fair, but it's reality. What they did was stupid, and if someone had to die for it, they deserve to be made aware of it - they're also thirteen. They're not six or seven when the concept of write and wrong was still blurred. They're at the age where they should be capable of taking responsibility for their actions. That, or never do it, ever. If they can get away with this, after all, what can't they get away with?" He tilts his mug to the side a bit at this last, then lifts it to take another drink before he licks the rim of the cup and shrugs a touch, "You can call me Br'yn. I don't much cater to the formalities unless I need to. As for being Searched, you're focusing too much on the current aggravation and not enough on the possible anticipation. This isn't about change, or about me, or about the other candidates. This is about the possibility of what you could be, or who could be looking for you. It ultimately comes with the concept that there could be someone on the Sands who not only cares for you more than anyone else, but who would literally die without you. That's the point of candidacy, Tarish. The rest is just details - stop treating them as epic problems worth surmounting." He shrugs at this last, notably not actually catching onto the fact that he's being checked out and, thus, not offering much of a response. It would seem that, adult that he may be, Br'yn's abilities when it comes to flirting or anything along those lines is lacking, though he does continue soon enough, smiling with a vague sense of melancholy and distant affection, "My lover was here. My best friends were here. The Weyrwoman ousted me for reasons I still don't understand. Now, my lover is gone, my best friends are weyrmated and dealing with an illness and retirement, and I'm the leader of a Wing." He pauses, then adds, idly, "Life is very strange."
A softer look touches Tarish's features; where Br'yn is usually not as angry, Tarish is not this nice, and it takes her a moment before she responds, but, looking down at her hands.. She undoubtedly actually believes that, for once, she may have actually done something wrong. Who knew. "I'm sorry, Wingleader. I didn't know they had… disobeyed. I was under the impression they were just exploring. My mistake." Her fingers slide up and she shoves the tip of one into her mouth, idly chewing it as she stares off into.. space. "I'd call you Br'yn, I don't much like titles either, but every time I get caught referring to someone without one, I just get the image of Elara jumping down my throat.." The dark girl shivers, before her eyebrows distort into a strangely odd expression. "I don't know who you're kidding. Maybe there is a dragon for me, but from the moment I was born, I've been hated by everything and everyone that ever knew me.. Till I got here. Now all I have is Bellanne, and she's the only reason I didn't leave when I could have. I've never believed in friendship before, but now that I actually have it.. I dunno. I was Searched by a dragon that didn't like me. Seems strange that there actually /would/ be a dragon that took a liking to me, unless I changed, and.." She shakes her head, looking up at Br'yn with a vague expression. ".. I don't want to change for that sake. I am who I am. But, Bella wants me to change, Elara wants me to change, J'xmi, V'gay, Lidia.. The list goes on…" She crosses her arms, setting her chin into them as she leans into the table. "Maybe it's good for me, actually doing honest work. But I didn't get a chance to settle into it. It was thrown on me. I'm just.. overwhelmed." Her face lays sideways on her crossed arms, as she blinks, and stares deep into the Wingleader. "You're lover's gone…? What happened?" Ooo, blunt.
Br'yn leans forward against the table, folding his arms on top of it as he shifts the mug around between his fingers, focusing on Tarish intently for a few seconds before he says, "Maybe you're taking things too seriously. I doubt everyone's hated you. I've only known you for ten minutes, and besides making me angry, I don't hate you. Elara and V'gay don't hate you - and Elara isn't all that bad, really. If you take everyone at face value, that's the only impression you'll ever get… besides, dragons choose people for who they already are, not who they might be. They choose based on who the real you is." He takes a long drink of his klah, but his eyes shift sideways, towards the entrance, likely remembering his own Impression, though he then looks back to Tarish and continues onwards, "The only thing we can do when we're overwhelmed is to take a deep breath and try to get a handle on things." He grins suddenly, propping his jaw on his palm as he says, "When I turned sixteen, I Impressed a bronze dragon and became weyrmated to a thirty-three turn old woman; the next turn, I became Weyrleader and had a son. Life doesn't always give you choices as to how things are going to work. You either fold beneath the pressure, or you learn to be strong enough to deal with it. You view life's changes as things you've already done. When you were little, I'm sure you were different than you are now, if not by much. Growth is part of everyone's life. So, will you grow or will you complain?" This last is said with the barest hint of amusement, something that disappears abruptly when that last question is asked of him. He rubs his long fingers against the back of his neck, almost as if he were scratching it, then exhales lengthily and replies, "I'm not really sure. He decided he couldn't handle being domesticated or monogamous any more. Decided life with me simply wasn't what he wanted any more. I can't say it's surprising. He was different before, too. I didn't force him to change, but I did ask him. He slept around a lot, you see, and was a performer, a traveler. He never really seemed to mind becoming my lover, but when he left… well. He left." He shrugs, finally, and just takes another drink of klah.
One eyebrow overtakes the other as Tarish, focusing intently on Br'yn, heaves a couple of heavy breaths, trying to take in all his words. In a strange way, it's like listening to the father she never had; but, in a sense, she tries to blow it off because of such. "Hmm. You're probably right, but, if they allow me a chance, and don't take all my words for the entirity they sound, they might see I'm not such a stickler. So I'm arrogant, I'm a daredevil, I have a tough backbone and I don't take orders from no one. It's not because I don't /care/ necessarily. I just have never had to before, and it's made my life easier /not/ caring.. Until now. I like to see the plus sides in who I am, the fact that I'm indepedent and don't let anyone else influence me. So, I talk back to the Weyrleadership. They instantly think I'm being disrespectful. I'm just trying to be coy and funny. So, I'm not ordinary. Kinda makes me wish people would deal, sometimes." She nudges her face into the crook of her folded arms, closing her eyes for a moment in thought. "I guess I know how change goes. At eleven I was on my own. I haven't had anyone else since then. Eight turns of not needing to be respected. It was easy." Realizing that that life is now behind her, she cringes. It's not an easy transition. "Eh, I may continue to complain, but, understand, I complain for amusement. My father always jested I should've been a harper. Even if I'm a raunchy entertainer, I always made him laugh. And, I could get information outta anybody.. Things are so different, now." She shakes her head, and then turns to look at the bronzerider with a cocky look. "I'm sorry to hear that. I've never really had.. anything like that before, but I hear a broken relationship is tough." Shrug. "I'd offer to warm your bed, but.. you apparently don't like females. Not to mention," she flicks her candidate knot with the tip of her finger as she winks.
Br'yn listens in silence at first, but eventually, he pushes himself to his feet and laughingly asks, "So you would rather everyone else change so that you can be comfortable being arrogant? If you care about people, not just about the hierarchy, pay attention to the rules. They're not there just so people can make themselves feel better than you." He finishes off his klah, but it doesn't seem to improve how tired he is, setting it on a passing drudge's tray before he notes, "My mother abandoned me when I was born. I saw her for the first time a few turns ago. She told me I was as uninteresting and worthless now as I was when I was a baby. I won't say that I'm not happy to never have had to deal with her, but not having anyone else around to care for or respect isn't what I'd consider easy." He rakes his hair from his eyes once more, closing one against a flicker of mahogany hair before he speaks again, "A Harper requires discipline, though. If you're interested in that, I'd suggest you try and get used to taking orders around here first… and no, actually. I'm interested in both. Z'ran was just someone I was in love with." He leans forward and flicks the candidate knot playfully before straightening with his hands on his hips, rolling his shoulders to loosen the muscles, "It is tough. I have to get some sleep - morning sweeps tomorrow." He focuses on Tarish again, then rests his hands on the table and leans towards her again, "Look, Tarish. I won't ask you to change… but I will ask you to try. You don't seem like a weak person… so don't be." With that, he turns away in order to walk towards the entryway, throwing a wave over his shoulder, "Good night." And so, he's off, leaving only the faint, lingering scent of desert spices behind. Ta da!
"I… I'm sorry for your hardships. Guess we have something in common." Tarish ruffles her own hair as she listens to Br'yn, flinching a bit when he mentions discipline. The only thing she's taken to in her entire life has been gambling, and learning; listening is an entirely different story. "Both ways? Hmm. Well. If you ever the need.. You know where to find me." Tarish offers a bit of a wink as she slyly eyes the man, but, bites her lip softly as she turns away, smiling a bit at his flicking of her knot. And when he mentions change? She just frowns, biting her lip for a moment. "I.. I.." She doesn't know what to say, exactly; but, she says what first comes to mind. "Alright." Oh, how elegant. Brushing the sleeve of her arm, she looks away.. Still chewing her food for thought. For once, it looks like someone actually got through to her.. And as soon as the man is gone, her green eyes trailing him as he leaves, she finally breaks, and in a soft, silent motion in the dark, empty living caverns, she sets her head in her hands.. and begins to cry.
