Inadequate (Vignette)

Xanadu Weyr - Forest
The trees grow thickly here, avians nesting in their branches and flitting about after insects. Flowers sprout up and speckle the ground between, the green of small plants and their blooms of bright saffron and cheeky rose that creep all the way up to the bases of the trees and adorn the fallen leaves and mulch of the forest floor. Those trees rise upward in their aged magnificence, gargantuan limbs casting often welcome shade, the general atmosphere and scent of the path is one of freshness and wild abandon.

A path winds its leisurely way through the trees, wide enough for wagons to pass. As it goes through into the forest, a number of other trails branch away, both more and less traveled. Many of them lead to private weyrs, but there's a few more trodden paths - notable among them a road to the feeding grounds, set against the western slopes.

The forest grows wilder the further north one goes, deep growth and ancient places, and the road splits in two against it. One branch leads to a clearing with a large stone building finished with wooden cladding, while the other turns back toward the meadow. Just before it emerges, a trail veers off to the Firelizard Theatre.

Language Warning

Velorn misses having his own room. With his own room, he can get away from everyone else— get away from all of the kids that have been Searched, from curious eyes as he has a fucking mental breakdown. Because, yeah… That’s what’s going on right now.

Vel is breaking.

That one egg, the last one he touched, it was… fuck! At least he can hide away from the rest of the Weyr in the forest, surrounded by nothing but trees and underbrush.

And the flying ball of rage that sometimes tolerates his presence.

The blond young man leans back against a stump almost as wide as he is tall, little green Clio curled up behind him in the middle. At least she’s asleep and not trying to destroy something so he’s free to sit and… ruminate.

Because, what the fuck?! That last egg, all greens and white and void, it was just… He groans in frustration and drops his face into his hands, knees drawn up with his elbows resting on top as he tries to hold back the tears that have threatened ever since it told him not to come back. He did, though. Go back, that is. He went back because of the sense of loneliness he felt from the still developing mind within that creepy feeling egg.

Vel is nothing if not stubborn, okay? It’s a thing, one that certain people have learned very well. Or, if they haven’t learned that about him, then they’re the dimmest of dimglows!

With all of the work that he’s got to do, right now, he just can’t focus. What’s the point in trying to finish the program he’s been working on when he knows that he’s just going to fuck something up and have to start all over? Instead, he’s brooding. Or maybe pining. At the very least, he’s got a lot to think about.

That egg, though… It made Velorn think of him. It made him think of the one person he’s been trying his damnedest to forget since before he was invited to come to Xanadu and offered another chance to Impress. Not that he’s any more likely to Impress this time than he did last time, but at least it gave him an excuse to get away from Fort for a few months.

Not that he really needs an excuse to leave… He’s a journeyman now. More than that, he’s a journeyman computer crafter. Anywhere would be better than the backwards, hidebound hell that is Fort. Not that Fort Weyr is really bad, but… There’s nothing for him there. Work is sporadic, at best, and there’s already a computer crafter there. One that’s even more experienced than he is!

Seriously. Why would anyone want to work with a computer crafter that’s only been a journeyman for a turn when there’s one that would probably be a master if he hadn’t Impressed?

They wouldn’t. Just one more thing that makes Vel inadequate.

That egg, though… He almost didn’t go back to it. It didn’t want him to, but… It just felt so alone— so very, painfully alone— that he had to. He had to go back to it. And it felt… maybe grateful isn’t the right word, but he’s glad he didn’t abandon it. There’s just something…


He just hopes that whoever that one Impresses to is worthy of it. With a mind like that, it’s probably a bronze, which means that it’ll be a hot day *between* before it would even think about him. It’s probably already forgotten about him. Just like everyone else…

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