K'dir ambles in from the bright and cheerful living cavern.
K'dir comes in, chewing on a mouth full of meat slices.
Alora ambles in from the bright and cheerful living cavern.
Ilesyn is throwing darts at the dartboard, her eyes narrowed towards the target, the darts-- well, the darts hitting the floor some distance in front of the dartboard. Evidently, the emphasis is on /throwing/, and not /hitting/.
Alora trails in behind K'dir. She seems... disgruntled. Hands hang loosely at her side and her smile is not as ready as usual. Rather than immediately grabbing darts she watches Ilesyn for a minute, arching a brow. "Hey there Ilesyn."
K'dir stands there, licking his fingers, and taking stock of where all the darts are landing. It's a case of not what she's doing, but how she's doing it that bothers him.
S'vilen ambles in from the bright and cheerful living cavern.
S'vilen slips into the game room and pauses, looking around, arms folded over his chest. He scans the room for a moment, then smiles, spotting someone. He gives little attention to the darts, if he even saw them at all as he moves through the gatherers to the Sunrise wingleader, crouching down to speak with her. Her game of cards is put on pause while she listens.
K'dir says "So...was tehre something down on the floor you were aiming at, Ilesyn?"
Ilesyn runs out of darts, and moves to collect those scattered in front of her, giving them a quizical glance. "Alora, K'dir," she greets, somewhat stiffly, as if, for a moment, showing some kind of embarrassment. "Hush. I'd like to see you do better. Besides, I'm working."
K'dir says "What job is this?"
Sanriel ambles in from the bright and cheerful living cavern.
Alora quirks a brow, flumping down into a chair not far from the board. "Yeah, what does this have to do with your work?" This actually draws interest, and she stops fidgiting long enough to listen for an answer. Well, mostly. Her restlessness is shown in the habitual tug on the braid that lays over her shoulder, and one foot taps silently at the air.
K'dir looks around and bends down to pick up a couple more darts that got away.
S'vilen continues his discussion with the wingleader, which seems to be involved enough that she slowly sets down her cards, face down, then suddenly stops, holding up a finger. Siv nods and glances around aimlessly while he waits for her to finish the game, which seems to be going rather quickly now.
Ilesyn, her hands full of darts, explains calmly, "One of my patients, B'l--er, just one of my patients. He wants to get over his gambling obsession. In order to understand, I must put myself into his position, and understand the feelings behind it." She does an almost unconscious study of Alora's movements, adding, "Does my ability with a dart disconcert you so much that you must wiggle about in fear?"
K'dir shrugs, looks at Alora, then at Ilesyn. "Is it all right if we play darts, Ma'am?" he asks politely?
Sanriel peeks through the open doorway to the Living Cavern, pausing a moment to regard those inside before stepping through the doorway. Intending to flee if the occupants seem involved in something private, she pauses a few feet from the door. "'Evening!" she says cheerfully. Decorating the fingers of one hand are several mugs, while a pot of klah is held steadily in the other.
Alora stops abruptly, clasping her hands together in her lap. "Hmm?" She feigns an innocent tone. "I'm not worried, nope. I think you're doing just marvelously." She flashes a winning smile, but it is brief, sliding off her lips like a Weyrling off an over-oiled lifemate. Soon enough it pops back though, at the sight of Sanriel. "Sanriel! Fort Weyr's duties to Harper. How are you?"
S'vilen taps his finger absently against one bent knee while he waits for the bluerider to finish her game. He glances towards to door and takes note of Sanriel, but with his rather obscured postion, crouching beside a chair, he doesn't offer greetings.
Ilesyn's is a knowing smile, in response to Alora, her eyebrows raising thoughtfully although her lips express no further comment on the subject, another dart sent aloft, landing no more than a couple handspans in front of her, on the floor. "Journeywoman, if you're trying to be polite, K'dir. I have no problem with you playing, no." Sanriel's greeting draws a vague smile, as another dart is let fly-- it actually bounces off the wall. The only problem is, it bounces off some distance from the board.
K'dir backs off from the wall near the board.
Sanriel smiles at the greeting from Alora, "Good to see you again, Alora. And I bring the kitchen's duties to... everyone!" a wide smile for the rest of the assembled. Quickly counting the mugs threaded on her fingers, she sets them down and offers klah all around. "Playing darts?" she asks the obvious as she pours.
K'dir smiles at the Harper a little sheepishly. "Maybe..." he says softly.
Alora bounces up from her chair with a lot more enthusiasm than is strictly necessary. It's not like she's hopping from foot to foot or anything, but there's just an air of tense... restlessness about her. "I'll take some klah, thanks. You want to join us Sanriel?" She glances over at the dartboard. "I'm not very good at it m'self, but it's something to do, you know?" And her hand is back up at her braid, giving it a little tug.
As the bluerider finally finshes her game, and wins, her partners disperse and reassemble at another table. Siv sits up on one of the vacated chairs and begins to talk quietly with the woman, again, head held near hers while a finger diagrams things on the table.
"Why do people want to play darts?" Ilesyn's tone is almost petulant, although, at the same time, thoughtful. "I don't understand the desire. Explain to me, will one of you?" Her gaze moves back between Sanriel, Alora and K'dir, a shake of her head refusing klah, as she sends another dart hurtling off towards-- or rather, not towards-- the board. "Come and play, anyway, if you're playing."
K'dir says softly, "That's okay," and backs off. He's afraid he's causing a problem.
Sanriel pours klah around to everyone she has a mug for, taking the last for herself and sipping it with satisfaction. "If you've room for one more, I'd love to. But I'm not so good at it, myself." she agrees with a rueful chuckle. A questioning glance is sent in Ilesyn's direction before she replies "Why would anyone /not/ play darts? what a reply. Leave it to the eloquent Harper...
S'vilen draws back as the woman goes a bit white. He puts out a hand to touch her arm, but she yanks it back and stalks out of the room rather obviously. A few people stop what they're doing to watch her, and then look at Siv, who's the obvious culprit. He sits here looking a little bemused and displeased at the same time.
K'dir bites his lower lip as he watches his cousin. This is what it is like to be a rider? He's not going to get involved with anyone!
Alora takes a mug. A sip is taken, then she shrugs. "Because we're stuck in the Weyr and we can't drink or kiss or anything so what else are we going to do?" Alora waves a hand as she speaks, then clears her throat. "It's been a long day." That's about all the explanation there is, especially since the stalking wingleader distracts the blueling. She arches a brow S'vilen's way, then asks of the general gathering, "What was that?"
Ilesyn's attention is oh-so-intently caught by S'vilen's little meeting, and subsequent break-up, her eyebrows raising once more, which is probably why the world is saved from another thrown dice, for the moment. "Oh. I suppose that's a response, Alora. You should try and calm down a little. Think about your frustrations, work through them." Sanriel is given a more miffed response: "I wouldn't, if it were up to me." Beastly game.
Sanriel blinks at the tension in the air, wondering what she's missing. "It seems to me..." she points out rather bravely "that if you didn't like it, you wouldn't play." Another beat of silence before she tuns inquisitive eyes on S'vilen.
K'dir walks off inwards to the bright and cheerful living cavern.
S'vilen rises and shakes his head slightly as he moves towards the dart gathering. "I had to tell her that her wing did poorly at Fall last time and she needs to tighten up. I don't think she liked that."
Ilesyn, dryly, "Would you like that, Weyrsecond?" She lets another dart fly, and it ricochets of the wall again-- at least she's getting /slightly/ closer to the actual board, now. "I don't like it, and I wouldn't play, but this is /work/. Research." she explains to Sanriel, her eyes rolling.
Intrigued by that admission, Sanriel moves closer. "Really? How so?" She scoops a stray dart off the floor and sends it idly in the direction of the dartboard, whre it sticks, barely, in the very edge.
Alora sets down her klah, giving S'vilen a nod. "I can imagine that. It's your job though, I guess." She beckons the bronzerider, nodding toward the dartboard. "Want to join us?" To Ilesyn then she replies. "Work through them how? I'm just... I don't know. I'm ready to be done now. Not too much longer I guess."
S'vilen gives Ilesyn an equally dry look. "Of course not, but if it were true, I wouldn't walk off on the person who told me," he says. Then with a glance at Alora he shrugs and shakes his head, "I'm not really one for darts too much."
Ilesyn promptly glares at Sanriel. It isn't fair, if she can get one to actually stick, just like that. "I already explained this. Obviously, you hadn't arrived yet. I'm attempting to understand how one of my patients thinks." This is serious business, which involves yet another flying dart, which bounces on the floor, and then rolls to a standstill. "Patience is a virtue, Alora. You have too much of the impetuousity of youth. Take a step back, and look at the situation from the eyes of another." S'vilen's comment earns a nod, and a shrug. "Maybe."
Sanriel giggles at Ilesyn's advice. "That kind of advice might work for darts, too, you know." She picks up another dart, pausing before her throw to stick out a hand and introduce herself. "Sanriel's my name..."
Alora snorts at Ilesyn. "Well." She pauses, fumbling for a better comeback than that. "Well... I'm just... I'm not patient." She bends, snatching up a dart. "So there." With that the dart is flung and it sticks, quivering, just outside of the bullseye. The girl nods with satisfaction then glances at S'vilen. "Is it horrible of me to be itching to be done with Weyrlinghood? It just started and I'm... all..." She trails, off, shrugging.
S'vilen glances sidelong at Ilesyn. "Maybe? Do you think I would?" he asks, rather curious. He shrugs at Alora, a little at a loss. "I was a weyrling for just over two turns. You've been one, what, 16, 17 months?" he says, rather than directly answering her question.
"Ilesyn," returns the owner of that name, shifting the darts from one hand to the other so that she can take Sanriel's hand and shake it firmly. "Ah, but I'm not trying to take a step back. I need to take a step forward, and take his shoes foot first." Alora's fumble draws amusement, and then a drawled comment-- biting, but that's probably only because of the dart. "And I thought that they actually attempted to /teach/ useful things in weyrlinghood. --Oh, Weyrsecond, I wouldn't dream to make such a judgement." Hah.
"Everyone's looking forward to Graduation." Sanriel comments benignly, taking careful aim with a dart. She lets it fly - and manages to hit very near the bullsye - but with the wrong end of the dart and it clatters to the ground. "Maybe I'm not catching the link..." she begins apologetically, "How does failing to play darts help you get into your patients shoes?"
Alora clears her throat, color springing to her cheeks. She looks downright abashed. "Oh... um... just over 12 actually." That braid gets yet another quick tug. "I think it might just be because I'm tired and Emeryth's tired and... it's just been a long day."
S'vilen smiles faintly. "Well, there you go. So I'm not a good person to ask. I was a weyrling a /long/ time," he says. "Although I was younger." He drops the discussion with Ilesyn, though not without a dubious glance. Then, to Alora again, "What is it you'd like to do that you can't?"
Ilesyn replaces the darts within her other hand, letting another fly-- it misses. Of course. "My patient is an obsessive gambler and dart player. I have to understand /why/ he would have become obsessed, so that I can help him become un-obsessed." There's a faintly mirthful twitch to her lips at S'vilen's dubious glance, and dropping of the conversation, although she makes no comment. "Face it, Alora. You just want to get laid."
Alora nods at S'vilen's words, that is reasonable after all. She's in the midst of considering his question when Ilesyn pipes up and she chokes, then splutters. "Laid?! Of all the... how rude... I do /not/... that is..." Her hands clench into fists and she turns downright crimson. "THAT has nothing to do with it." So there.
Sanriel blinks at that bold statement, and turns to Alora. "What an excuse for Graduation." She winks at Alora, sharing a secret.
Alora blinks at the wink, growing more bewildered every second. "That is /not/ why! I just... I want to be doing what I'm going to be doing already. I'm sick of just learning about being a rider. I want to /be/ a rider. I want to do what I want- whatever that is." She groans, covering her face as it continues to burn. "It is not about getting laid." Dost the lady protest too much? Perhaps.
S'vilen clears his throat. "Really, Ilesyn," he says, tone almost irritated. "Not everything is about sex." He folds his arms over his chest and eyes the healer. "Although I suppose it might be for the people you have to treat."
"My mistake." Ilesyn schools her expression into something somewhat apologetic, dipping her head towards Alora. "Obviously, you had something else that was illegal during weyrlinghood on your mind." She adds, rather dryly, "Personally, if I were in your shoes, I'd rather stay a weyrling entirely. At least you're more likely to stay alive." S'vilen's comments draw a twitching smile, "No, not everything. Just most things. It's amazing the links that you can find-- within /anyone/."
Sanriel abandons her half-hearted Healer-baiting and moves to Alora's side, sitting down and patting her shoulder solicitously. "I know how you feel," she agrees, "My last days of Apprentice-hood were /neverending/!"
S'vilen sniffs. "You could probably related everything to people's desire for or fear of cheese, too," he says with an odd little edge in his normaly smooth voice. "Generally, it has to do with wanting to be able to get out there and really do something," he says to Ilesyn. "They're not like healer apprentices, who can help with patients once they have the experience."
Alora sniffs at Ilesyn, nodding in agreement with S'vilen. "Exactly. That is just how I feel." She smiles softly over at Sanriel, laying her hand lightly, briefly over the Harper's. "Thanks." She squirms around a bit. "I'm a bit nervous about that first flight of course but that's /not/ wanting to...well... you know... as opposed to /wanting/ to." She
she clears her throat, coloring lightly once more.
Ilesyn's somewhat bushy eyebrows raise thoughtfully in response to S'vilen's comments. "Cheese? I don't think so. Cheese doesn't have the some kind of effect upon people, in my experience. My, but you take this seriously. Have I offended you again? I'll grant you that a weyrling has less of a role in life than an apprentice, but--" She trails off, her shoulders shrugging. "Obviously, I am outvoted, again." Alora is given a long glance, her head shaking.
Sanriel pats one more, lightly, and withdraws her hand. "You've got nerves. Don't worry about it!" She offers a bright smile and an almost-pat before, catching her hands together in her lap. No touchie.
S'vilen doesn't look at Alora. "No, you haven't, but if you jump too swiftly to one conclusion, then you may miss what is really going on," he says reasonably to Ilesyn. "Oh, don't worry about that," he finally says to Alora. "You're bluerider, not a green. Emeryth probably wont catch for even the first few months after starting to chase."
Ilesyn's expression turns musing, her hands apparently weighing the dart still within them, which is tossed off after some hesitation, to end up on the floor again. "There are always a great many factors in any particular situation, although I'll give you this one. Obviously, I was not entirely correct in my assessment." She pauses. "Dare I ask, Alora, why you are so nervous?"
Alora casts a soft smile over at Sanriel then, leaning just slightly over to touch shoulders with the girl- almost like an armless hug if you will. She straightens then, brightening instantly at S'vilen's words. "I bet that's true. Why didn't Jalis say /that/?! I'll have plenty of time before then." Deep, steadying breath, then she glances at Ilesyn. "Um... I haven't ever... you know. It... hurts in normal circumstances." Oh, she's squirming now, and blushing a bit as well. "Imagine throwing dragonlust into the mix. It's not a pleasant thought to me, that's all."
Slowly, therealization hits her. Snariel has no idea what the dragonriders are talking about. Sitting silent, she radiates comfort and sympathy Alora-wards and keeps her ears open to more clues. The flit of an idea crosses her mind, and she blushes just a bit.
S'vilen clears his throat, nodding once at Ilesyn, then glancing at Alora. He hesitates for a moment. "Best to find a way to remedy the situation before he catches," he offers as advise, then, before she has a chance to react to the suggestion, he grins at all three women. "I'll leave you to discuss the issue without awkward company," he says, backing towards the door.
"For once, the Weyrsecond has solid advice to give," blurts out Ilesyn, although it's with a teasing smile. "Fare well," she adds, nodding towards him, her head almost immediately turning back so that she can watch Alora and Sanriel. "Better to get the anticipation over with, as soon as you're allowed to."
Alora shrinks into a chair, wiping a hand over her face. She peeks up long enough to see S'vilen leaving and gives him a weak wave. "Easy for him to say." It's a mumble. "I /can't/ remedy it at this point... and if I could I wouldn't have anyone to remedy it /with/ and... argh."
Suddenly, it clicks, and Sanriel knows what everyone is talking about. "Oh!" she says aloud, blushing. "Well," she offers Alora with another wink. "We can always lock you in a closet..."
S'vilen walks off inwards to the bright and cheerful living cavern.
Up go Ilesyn's eyebrows, again. "Alora, dear, there are hundreds of eligible men about the weyr. Surely you wouldn't have a problem asking one of them? Or even a woman, if you were so inclined. I could suggest a few, if you were interested." Sanriel's response has her confused, briefly; obviously, she assumed the Harper knew the subject of conversation. "A closet? How utterly boring."
Alora lets out a little squeak, peering up at Sanriel. "Lock me in a closet? Sweet Faranth, why?" Her eyes are wide now, brows lifted and face suddenly pale. "I didn't do anything /wrong/ after all. What sort of twisted things does Harper Hall /do/?!" She swallows, then looks up at Ilesyn. "Just... ASK?! Just go up... and ask someone. Are you crazy?" She peers at the mindhealer. "You /would/ know if you went crazy, wouldn't you?"
Sanriel blinks. Maybe she didn't know what was going on, after all. "There's another way to solve it, you know... Find someone you trust, maybe one of your fellow Weyrlings. I'll bet there are others with your same worries, and you can..." another blush. She's a /composer/, not a mediator...
"Well, you could ask, or you could get someone really, really drunk and hope for the best," says Ilesyn, placidly, her head nodding. "There's plenty of men who'd be more than willing. And no, I'm not crazy. I would definitely know; I see the signs far too often to miss them." Sanriel's comment is nodded at, "Your fellow weyrlings might well be a good possibility, too. It may not be the most-- satisfying of experiences, but it will make it easier in the long run."
The mention of fellow weyrlings brings a frown to Alora's brow. "M'ial would just /love/ that." She snorts, shaking her head and sending her thick braid swinging. "That is not going to happen. Not a chance. I guess after graduation I'll just be on a quest. Maybe even graduation night- lots of people will be drunk then." She sighs, shaking her head. "I can't believe I'm pre-meditating this. Isn't it supposed to be romantic or... something?"
Sanriel shakes her head, intentionally taking the comment wrong. She's /never/ though weyrlings were romantic. "No. Romance is a Harper myth." she teases.
Ilesyn has given up dart throwing, and leans back against a wall, considering, "Out of all your class, you only mention M'ial? Surely there's enough of you to think of /someone/. But-- graduation could work, certainly. It doesn't have to be romantic, or involve love. Fardles, I've never found it to involve either." So sayeth the woman of the world.
Alora sighs, rubbing a temple. "Well, I'm sure I'll figure it out. Maybe I'm just not ready to be disillusioned yet. If Emeryth weren't so eager to chase I wouldn't be so worried." She stands, stretching her arms up over her head. "At any rate, thank you both for your help and advice... I feel less restless and more worried now... I guess that's better." She grins. "I think I should go check on Emeryth, will you two excuse me?"
Ilesyn lifts one hand after Alora, her smile-- well, probably /intended/ to be kind, although the toothlessness makes it seem far more quirky than that. "Fare well. Don't stress too much over this, will you?"
Sanriel waves after Alora. "Yes, don't worry! It will work out all right!"
Alora just nods. "I'll sure try not to. It's just one little event in my whole big life, right? I'll get past it one way or another." She flashes a smile Sanriel's way too. "Thank you both. Have a good evening!"
Alora walks off inwards to the bright and cheerful living cavern.
Posted by Louise at January 29, 2003 11:07 AM