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Post by claire on Jan 29, 2011 16:46:19 GMT -5
By this stage Varan had more or less resigned himself to the clearly evident fact that he was going to fully adjust to the diurnal rhythm of the weyr slowly if at all. It would probably never stop feeling strange. Of course he was pleased to be here ever though the initial excitement had faded, and hopeful for what the future promised...but it was in the deep of night especially, with the candidate barrack still and silent, that the feeling of dislocation nagged at him. He missed his family. He missed sitting on the buckboard of their vardo with his cousins and the draybeast plodding along in front, the constant buzz of conversation and the distant sounds of music and laughter. At this stage he even missed the work.
It was the silence that got to him. The barracks were alarmingly quiet at night. So it was that for the last few times he'd found himself awake late that he'd headed outside. At least with the largely nocturnal wherhandlers out and about, there were some signs of life.
On this particular night he had walked down to the lake to sit on a rock outcropping by the water. He tucked his legs under him and took a moment to appreciate the view. Belior was riding high in a clear sky above, with Timor just barely clearing the steep stone walls of the weyr bowl. Their reflections shimmered as a night breeze stirred the surface of the lake.
Blindly he reached down beside him; his fingers brushed over the smooth-worn surface of the rock before closing around a smaller rock. He tossed it in an underhanded arc out into the shallows at the edge of the lake. The ripples fanned out from the point of impact to lap at the lakeshore.
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Reky
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Post by Reky on Jan 29, 2011 20:03:40 GMT -5
For once, his nightly outing wasn't because of fellis. This one was strictly legal and socially acceptable. He was dead tired, his eyes like lead, but his mind wouldn't stop ticking away. He couldn't sleep even if he wanted to - even if it was what his body desperately needed. He just kept thinking. He couldn't exactly just shove it all away. Part of it was a pressing matter - Southern had a big shipment of fresh-squeezed fellis juice, but somewhere along the line every last one of the full skins had disappeared. There were furious people on both ends. R'fus had been one of the people on the receiving end. X'mor would have been happy about that. Kio would have been able to stop pestering him about people wanting more. He wasn't so much angry, though, as he was worried. He didn't know just how much dust was going to be kicked up by the angry people who wanted their money. He didn't know where the fellis had went, either, and who was to blame.
The rest of the things plaguing him were, as usual, Kio-and-X'mor based. There were far too many conflicting emotions towards the two in his crotchety old heart. Too many things he wanted to say but really shouldn't. Apparently, he was smart enough to realize that it was bad for his health, but not smart enough to just give it up and let Kio be Kio, and let X'mor be with Catori. Then, if he did that, he could sleep.
Eondith was sleeping soundly in their weyr, refusing to deal with R'fus' human worries. From where he was, R'fus could see the black hole that was their weyr, but he couldn't make out the blue dragon within. He quietly walked along the lake's shore, mulling things over. He figured either someone was hiding the stolen fellis, or one of the other dragonrider runners had dropped it between.
Eventually, though, in his half-present state, he spotted someone a little further down the way. He dragged his consciousness out of the depths of his head, silently promising himself to be a little more sociable. He shoved his hands into his pockets after rubbing his tired, unshaven face, and slowly headed for the stranger.
"Can't sleep?" he said, quietly, quirking a lopsided and sympathetic smile. He could understand the inability to sleep. [/blockquote] |
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Post by claire on Jan 29, 2011 23:58:02 GMT -5
Varan glanced up at the sound of someone approaching. Late at night it may have been, but the moons overhead cast enough light for him to get a good enough look at the man walking along the edge of the lake: unshaven and generally fairly scruffy-looking, dark-haired...and even from here, even sitting down, he didn't have to look too closely to be certain this man was significantly taller than he was.
The question took him by surprise a little; poor judgement on his part, maybe, but he hadn't been expecting conversation. Most of the people out and about at this our tended to keep to themselves. "Something like that," he replied with a shrug. It wasn't exactly the truth, but it was close enough...and far less trouble than explaining that he hadn't quite matched his own schedule to the weyr's, and as far as his body was concerned it was somewhere in the region of lunch time. "You look like you're having a good night," he commented in return with just a hint of dry irony in his tone. In truth the older man looked utterly exhausted. He wasn't one to judge, but someone in that sort of state at this hour probably had something very heavy on their mind.
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Reky
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Post by Reky on Feb 1, 2011 19:58:26 GMT -5
Slowly, R'fus came closer to Varan. He was glad that Varan received him with relative friendliness and a touch of sarcasm. What he really didn't need was someone being rough towards him and brushing him the wrong way. A person like that would be the last straw to his frustrating, exhausted mood. It was a relief to have someone to perhaps talk to late at night. He obviously couldn't explain all of his troubles, especially not to a stranger, but even just talking about other things would help.
He laughed a little, sadly, at Varan's comment and sat down near him. Not too terribly close to him, but in the general vicinity. "Oh, yeah, it's a great night. Best in a while," he said sarcastically. He sighed and looked out at the lake. "It's ridiculous. I jus'... can't stop thinkin'. Not long enough t'sleep." He rubbed his tired eyes and stubble-covered cheek.
"A'least the Weyr's nice 'n quiet at night," he shrugged appreciatively. "Always is." [/blockquote] |
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Post by claire on Feb 7, 2011 17:39:09 GMT -5
"A mind is a terrible thing to have," he agreed lightly, maintaining the faintly ironic edge which made it clear he was being anything but entirely serious. "They have an inconvenient habit of not working when we need them to, and then refusing to be quiet and give us peace when we don't." He didn't know what troubled the man; and though he couldn't deny some sense of curiosity, it was none of his business and he had no intention of sticking his nose in where it didn't belong.
He rested his hands on the smooth rock behind him and leaned back slightly, looking skywards. "It certainly is quiet." He wasn't quite as appreciative. The quiet still felt strange and unnatural. And though he knew he would just have to learn to cope with it, he definitely wasn't required to like it. Being around people and life and conversation made the nagging sense of dislocation easy to accept. It was only when there were no goings-on to take an interest in that he realised anew just how far from home he was. Not that distance had anything to do with it really. Home was people, not a place.
"So...rider?" he hazarded a guess. He was quite willing to let his mouth run on autopilot for the sake of maintaining the light and idle tone of the conversation.
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Reky
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Post by Reky on Feb 19, 2011 23:28:47 GMT -5
"Tell me about it," R'fus sighed. On nights like these, he really wished he could dash his brains out on a rock to get some peace and quiet, but obviously that route was impractical. "I've been tryna sleep for so long. Might as well jus' stay up all night. 'ventually I'll be so exhausted I can't keep my eyes open." It was about the only thing he could do about it. It would be a long, restless night, incredibly uncomfortable, but eventually he would have to sleep, whether his thoughts liked it or not.
A quick glance was half cast in Varan's direction. Even though R'fus personally enjoyed the lull in the nigh-constant buzz of the Weyr, he could understand why someone would dislike it. Silence could be oppressive. It also left you to your own devices, and sometimes things nagging at your mind could finally creep out. For R'fus, the silence was a pocket of breathing room, but he couldn't deny that he probably wouldn't be thinking as much if he was busy with something else.
Pondering all that, staring out at the lake, R'fus barely noticed when Varan spoke again. He perked up slightly, blinking. "Hm? Me? Oh, yeah," he said. "Yeah. Rider. R'fus of blue Eondith. Eon's sleepin'... lucky bastard. No real point in meetin' him anyway, he's no fun at all." The last point was made jokingly. It was the truth, really, but the affectionate truth. R'fus loved Eondith no matter how serious the blue lug was. The dragon at least had an extra facet to his personality after catching Laemirath - he loved that green. R'fus had never seen him like that before, and he figured there was a first time for everything.
He cocked his head to the side, smiling slightly at Varan. He made his own guess, then. "Candidate?" [/blockquote] |
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Post by claire on Feb 21, 2011 23:40:07 GMT -5
"Sounds like a reasonable plan," Varan agreed. He really did sympathise; insomnia was an utter pain in the tail, and he wouldn't wish it on anyone. Or...well. Maybe one or two people. But R'fus seemed like pleasant enough company so far and as such didn't merit being included in that group. The way he spoke about his dragon only strengthened that impression; superficially derisive though the words may have been, the tone was anything bit. It reminded him of the way he might have spoken about his cousins, or the sort of affectionate bickering that had marked his parents' day to day lives.
He spread his hands wryly at the older man's all too accurate assessment of him. "Is it that obvious?" he said in a self-deprecating tone. It probably was at that. He had to assume that most of the riders would know each other by sight if not by name, and presumably most new arrivals to the weyr - and thus most new faces - would be candidates. "Yeah, candidate," he confirmed, "Arrived a few sevendays ago." Strange to think it had been so long; probably the longest he'd ever spent in the same place at a stretch in his life. Certainly the longest he could remember.
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