Who

tasna Prymelia

What

Two candidates take a break along the lip of the volcano.

When

It is late night of the sixteenth day of the fourth month of the first turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Ista Volcano Island, Steamy Volcanic Bowl

OOC Date

 

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Steamy Volcanic Bowl

Steam still permeates the the dormant cone of the volcano, lifting from the element-swept crust and drawn away as at the will of the winds. Warm here, but not outrageously hot, the ground will always have some temperature to it. Along the edge of the cone is a spectacular view of the tropical Istan seas, from the Big Bay to the Southern oceans. A few more islands dot the landscape. and the larger expanse that is Ista Isle.


While the candidates still have a good hour until the sun goes down, one of them has abandoned the day's industry a little early to strike out for the top of the volcano. By now, Tasena has just managed to find a pretty good perch and is carefully settling in on the western side, her brimmed cap shielding her eyes from the late afternoon sun.

Tasena isn’t the only one seeking a little respite from some of the squabbling and whining going on down below as previously cosseted girls and boys struggle with the idea of fending for themselves. Trailing up along the path, long hair twisted into a single fat braid and (gasp) wearing a pair of trousers that look a size too big for her, comes Prymelia. Turning just as she reaches where Tas has taken up seating, she exhales a breath of appreciation. “Oh my, that view is worth the hike!” And then back to the other candidate. “Mind some company?”

"Hey," Tasena quickly replies, giving Prymelia a happy grin, though a tired one. "Got tired of it, too, huh?" she adds, her gaze falling toward that far beach. At least they've managed to make a couple cook fires. "I'm starting to feel way too old for this." She gives Prymelia an amused side glance, and pats the slap o' rock next to her. "Be my guest. I just wanted to… look. I guess." She waves toward the west, where the hulking form of Ista Isle can still be seen on the far horizon, dark agains the horizon which is quickly heading toward the hour of dusk, as only the tropics can.

“Aye,” Prymelia replies with a wrinkle of nose. “Never met such a bunch of whiny brats in my life before!” A quiet laugh greets Tasena’s next. “Oh thank Faranth, I thought it was just me.” The section of rock offered is taken up with the former trader pulling up a leg so that the heel of her boot rests upon its edge with arms winding about her knee. Following the direction of the other woman’s gesture, a faraway look enters hazel eyes. “You ever been to Ista?”

Tasena bites her lower lip for a moment as she goes back to staring at that dark hulk across the sea. "Yeah," she answers, and for several seconds, it seems she might leave it at that. She finally shoots Prymelia a quick look, though, and shifts her own perch on that slab of rock. "Ista was really good to me. Both Hold and Weyr. Taught me a lot about… work. Life." She takes a quick breath, though, and tacks on a smile. "And then I came here. I kind of want to visit Ista again, though. Just to see it. It's kinda becoming a thing for me. Like comparing an old hide with a newer copy or something." Her feet scuff against the gritty soil as she gestures toward the south. "Yukie, Alecsei and I found a Thread burrow down there earlier today." Look, a bird.

Surprise flecks hazel regard at the answer Tasena provides. “Is it much like Southern?” The redhead asks casting her gaze back out over the sea to where Ista island lies sprawled across the turquoise expanse. “I’d like to go there one day.” There’s a pause and then she tilts a curious look onto the other woman. “Oldtime Ista, right? Mmm. I think I’d want to go take a peek too and see how it’s changed. Then again, I often think I might like to go back in time to see how things were before.” Blink. Prymelia stiffens and shoots a nervous look up the skies. “What!? A Thread burrow? Where?” Attention snaps downward as if she might be able to see it from all the way up where they are.

Tasena frowns at the question as she ponders her answer. "In some ways," she says, but then starts to smile. "Really, though, there's nothing quite like it. More temperate, I guess." She nods quickly to confirm the Oldtime part and glances at Prymelia again. "I really don't recommend the time thing. If I'd known how harsh it was going to be… might have taken my chances with the comet." She smiles quickly and waves a hand about the burrow. "No, no! An old one. Like… maybe one of the first 'falls, old. It was totally dead and… just…" She grimaces, then shrugs. "Just dead. Like it ran out of energy or something. Or maybe got burnt, though it didn't smell burnt. Made me sick, though. And I think Alecsei might have puked. Not Yukie, though. You know how she can be, right?"

Talk of Thread burrow supercedes the questions that spring to mind over timing it and a delicate shudder ripples through Prymelia. “I’ve never seen one up close before. Do they smell bad?” She’s assuming so going by Tasena’s comment and then utters a short chuckle on Yukie. “I bet she wanted to know if it might have some use, didn’t she?” A patch of silence forms in which dead Thread is pondered and then she swings back to the topic of coming through time. “Was it bad? Like, did it mess with your head or is it just trying to adjust to everything so far into the future?” She has questions!

"It smells like… ground up bone," Tasena murmurs, clearly struggling for some sort of comparison. "Honestly, I think the rest of the candidates should see it. Kind of… y'know. Drove some things home, you know?" she asks, glancing quickly at Prymelia again. "Makes it real. All I could think was, what if a person had been standing there?" She rubs her palms against her shins and takes a deep breath, smiling gratefully for the questions that follow. "It… I don't know. It was such a drain. I felt really disoriented when we showed up here. But for me, it's definitely been the adjustments. I still won't wear a dress, though. Can you imagine? I'd look like a sharding scarecrow in a skirt." She grins crookedly and leans forward to rest her elbows on her knees. "Why'd you want to go back in time?"

Prymelia wrinkles her nose at the comparison the other woman makes. “Probably a bit like that giant dragon cookie I made back in Southern. That was disgusting! I puked three times while I was making it and Aaron had to burn sage to get rid of the smell in the Smithy.” Solemnity weaves about freckled features next and she nods. “Aye, maybe tomorrow you three can get them rounded up and take them down there. I’ve seen threadscore,” elegant brows scrunch toward one another. “Its not pretty.” Thankfully there’s a slightly lighter topic to move onto which she does by flashing Tasena a grin on the matter of clothing. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe if you grew your hair out a bit and didn’t wear anything too fussy?” Careful Tas, you might become a pet project in terms of Prymelia playing dress up with you. Dropping her foot to the ground, slender shoulders shrug. “I dunno. I think maybe seeing how things were back then might shed light on how things are now. Go back fifty turns at a time and chart the progress of things, you know? See how far we’ve come or how far we’ve gone backwards.”

"I've seen Threadscores, too," Tasena replies with a frown, "but this… I can't explain it. Just really caught me off guard, I guess." She shrugs slightly and folds her hands together while returning her gaze out toward Ista, while the sun speeds up its descent toward the horizon. She gives Prymelia an amused look regarding the hair and fussiness, complete with a slanting smile. As for the rest, "Don't the Harpers still record all that? Are they still housed at Fort Hold these days? Those archivists, man… they write down everything."

There’s a nod from Prymelia. “Aye, I guess it comes back harder when you realize that forty of us will be up there,” a hand lifts and waves vaguely to gathering dusk of the sky above, “fighting it.” Slipping Tasena a sidelong glance, an impish smile curls out. “Come on, I bet you’ll look just lovely in a dress. Or even a skirt and top. If you like, when we get back to the barracks, I’ll fish through my things and see if there’s something that might you.” Rainbuke alert! “I suppose,” a contemplative expression falls into place on the matter of harpers, “but reading it and seeing it for yourself is two different things. Like that burrow you found.”

"Well… thirty-nine," Tasena can't help but reply, back with a sly grin. "I do not envy which one of you ends up paired with whatever comes out of that shiny gold egg," she adds, laughing. "Sure won't be me, I can tell you that." She sits up again and rests her hands against the rock. "And no. I don't need any dresses," she insists. After a brief pause, though, she nods her head. "But thank you." She nods again, regarding the Harpers. "A fair point. I just…" She starts to shake her head, but it only gets halfway before she looks at Prymelia again. "I just can't emphasise enough how much it messes with you. Body and mind. Maybe it's different if you end up linking with a dragon somehow, but… I don't know. Just because something was once done a certain way doesn't mean they had it right. Just because something's done a certain way now? Same thing. There's always room for improvement. Just needs some thought."

“Me neither,” Prymelia is quick to retort throwing up her hands in a staying gesture. “I don’t even want to touch the thing in case it gets any ideas. The others are welcome to drool over it.” Warm amusement greets the rejection of her offer. “Well you know how to find me if you change your mind,” she tells Tasena and then frowns in concentration. “You think it’s easier on your mind and body to jump through time if you’re a dragonrider?” Crafty wheels begin to turn in that head of hers. Uh oh. “You’re right, I guess. Though I wonder if it’s easier on a body to go backwards or forwards? Or if doing both would put you on a mindhealer’s couch.” Idly mused and not requiring an answer.

Tasena laughs as she leans back and stretches her legs out in front of her. "I don't know. I just know that link does all sorts of other good things for the rider. They're healthier. They live longer. And during the jumps, it was always the riders who recovered first." She shrugs, then looks toward the western horizon. "As for the rest, just thinking about it makes me think having a mindhealer on hand might be good," she teases lightly, then starts to get to her feet. "It's going to get dark in a hurry. We should probably head back."

Standing as Tasena does, Prymelia utters a soft snort on the matter of mindhealers. “Unless they came through time themselves how are they going to know how to help you?” It clear by her tone of voice that she trusts the so-called profession about as far as she can throw out. Picking her way back down the path, laughter and light chatter floats out across the gathering evening air as the two return to the camp below.

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