Blue is for boys
Who: Hattie, Rhodya, Winston and Genny the NPC problem child
Where: Stores
When: Afternoon on day 4, month 1, turn 19
What: Three candidates have stores duty. Winston enlists the help of the ladies with a difficult child. He gets abused most horribly for it. Then he gets some alone time with Rhodya. And he spends some of it discussing a certain other candidate who has left already.
It's only an hour or so until dinner, but that doesn't mean that work in the Stores is drawing to anything resembling a close. With the fabric shortages and the bombardment of requests aimed at those faced with the joy of staffing the shelves and caverns today, it's been no picnic, either. Hattie stands to one side, almost outright arguing with a former colleague, the assistant headwoman beside her gesticulating wildly and pointing her back towards the shelves and towards a disorganized pile of unravelling sweaters.
Back in his old stomping ground Winston's been enjoying his day no matter all the trouble with the fabric shortage. He's done his share of smoothing ruffled feathers as well as just fetching and carrying. Large requests such as the random piece of furniture he's been happy to help haul to wherever it needs to go. Currently he's trying to help a girl of about six select a pair of boots. Her old ones got a hole in the toe after all. Her exasperated foster mother has slipped out with a promise to return leaving Winston to try to find 'pretty' boots like 'in a story.'
Hearing the tension in the voices ahead of her, Rhodya slows down on her way back from a different aisle, where she was sorting bedsheets. She pokes her head around the shelf to see what's going on, her eyes flicking from Hattie to that former colleague, and waits a few beats to make sure nobody's yelling before she tip-toes out the rest of the way. She's a bit hard to miss, tall thing that she is, and now she's standing right in Hattie's field of vision, waiting to catch her eye. 'Can I help?' she mouths silently once she has it.
Hattie bends to scrabble a few of the sweaters into her arms, meeting Rhodya's gaze as she straightens. She tries to leave the intensity in her eyes aimed at the ground, but it flickers before fading enough for her to nod and seem pleasant enough. "Thank you," she says, offering over a couple of the sweaters as she goes to claim the rest from the floor. "She's getting such a kick outta ordering me around," the Candidate mutters, with a glare aimed over her shoulder at the assistant headwoman. "Come on. Let's get out of her sight." Hattie goes to lead the way somewhere quieter, path going past Winston and his hunt for boots.
"Now, sweetheart," Winston tells the girl as she turns her nose up at a pair of red boots. "You're not seeing the potential of these, but if you say you believe they will pinch at the toes tomorrow then we must try again." Despite having been at this nearly an hour he doesn't seem to have lost his patience yet. He rummages around in the box and as he does so his eyes find Hattie. And since she's walking close he appreciates that with a whistle. This is followed by a chuckle and a grin. "You ladies need help?" he offers as he comes up with a pair of pink and yellow boots.
Rhodya twists a look over her shoulder as she and Hattie start walking away, making sure she gets a good look at the person who's been tormenting Hattie. Best to avoid, and all that. "Probably jealous," Rhodya posits with a shrug. "You're the one who got promoted real fast, if I remember you rightly." But she pauses, frowning, when she hears Winston's whistle. "You be civil," she orders him. Looking from him to the little girl, though, she lightens up. "You look like the one that'd need help, anyway. Ain't shoes supposed to be my specialty?"
Winston's whistle draws Hattie to a stop and gets him a sour look and a sharp remark that's begun and dies as she notices the little girl. "Hattie," she tells Rhodya, "and I don't know about jealous, but she's got a vicious little mind." Since she's stopped, she drops the sweaters at her feet, keeping one that she begins to look over to locate the unravelling thread. She smirks and looks between the girl, Rhodya and Winston, pleased or amused. "Why don't you step aside and let a woman show you how it's done?" she proposes to Winston, with a nod towards Rhodya.
"I am always happy to see a woman show me something," Winston says with a chuckle as the six turn old declares the boots too yellow. He drops them in the box and then stands up. "Now, Genny, these lovely ladies are going to help you as well." He smiles cheerfully at the girl who looks at the two women suspiciously. "I want them pretty," she declares forcefully. "And not like boy boots. I don't want boy boots. Eww. Boys are gross." This last is said with a look to Winston.
Rhodya quirks up a smile as she nudges past Winston. "Boys are gross," she agrees, making a point not to touch him at all on her way over to Genny. "Now, what kind of pretty were you thinking? You like pink?" She squats in front of the girl and starts poking through the pile of kid's boots on the shelf. After a glance at Genny's feet, she pulls out a pair of sky blue rain boots with pink flowers on them. "Anything like this?"
"Seems you're all out of charm today, Winston," Hattie remarks, tying off the thread she finds so it can't unravel further. "Even the young ones are catching on. What kind of fashion disasters have you been trying to convince her of, anyway?" She casts her gaze towards the numerous pairs of rejected boots. The boots Rhodya selects get a nod and a, "They're nice. Not like boy boots. Everyone'll be jealous of those, 'specially with those flowers," aimed at Genny.
Winston's chuckle is all the answer the ladies get. Clearly he's not worried about losing his charm. He does lean against the shelves with his arms folded over his chest. "Those are blue," Genny points out with a scowl. "Blue is for boys. I am not wearing /boy/ boots! Eww. Are you sure you're not a boy?" She looks at Rhodya and Hattie like maybe they are boys in disguise. "I want /pretty/ boots!" One besocked foot stomps down.
Pressing her lips together to squelch a laugh, Rhodya rolls a glance back at Hattie. Can you believe this kid? "Sky blue's not the same as boy blue," Rhodya points out, but she returns the little boots to the shelf. "'Cause sky blue's actually pretty. But all right, all right, let's try somethin' all pink. And fuzzy, how about these?" Her next suggestion is a pair of pink moleskin boots with fleecey insides. "Now /these/ - they're cute, huh? Bet they fit real comfy, too." She puts a hand inside to touch the fleece, then holds a boot out to tempt Genny into doing the same.
"I ain't no boy," Hattie assures Genny, exchanging a glance with Rhodya that has her suddenly staring intently at the sweater in her grip in an attempt not to laugh. She picks another up from the floor and shoves it towards Winston, all but smacking it into his chest. "Don't just stand there, do something useful. Find the thread; tie it off; fold." She eyes the next pair of boots, tensed and awaiting another fit of temper from the child. "Hey, I know. If you can find some you sorta like," she starts, trying to catch Genny's attention. "You could fix them up a little bit to how she might like, right?" finishes with another glance at Rhodya, with a shrug and apologetic gaze. Anything to stop the kid throwing a fit, right?
"Trust me, Genny, they are not boys," Winston assures the young girl in such an innocent voice with such an innocent expression that likely only the six turn old will not find something offensive about it. When the sweater comes to his chest he clutches it and looks at Hattie. "For you, darlin', I would do anything." And so still leaning back he begins to look for that loose thread. Genny eyes the boots in question however and she says, "They look too hot." It might be getting clearer why her foster mother abandoned her. "And I am not fixing them up! I don't want to fix them up! I want them pretty." But she looks at that pair of pink boots again like maybe she might be interested.
Rhodya grimaces at Hattie's suggestion, but her hint of a nod suggests she agrees with the strategy. "They ain't too hot," Rhodya assures her, noticing that look. "Fleece like this has a mind of its own, knows just how toasty your feet ought'a be and keeps 'em just right." Trying to increase the lure, she undoes the three (pink!) buckles and holds the open shoe out for Genny. "'Sides, once they see you in these cute things, them other girls you hang around with are gonna be jealous as heck." An idea strikes. "If you don't believe me, just ask Hattie there. Just today she had a girl get all jealous over her shoes, so you know she's got good taste. What d'you think of these boots, Hattie?"
Hattie glowers at Winston, eyes narrowed and filled with an unspoken threat. Sweater folded, she sets it temporarily down in a free space on the nearby shelf and bends to find another to start on, glaring right back at Winston again once she has, in-case he watches that move too closely. It takes a beat for her to start answering Rhodya's question in her best convincing voice. "Well," she begins, very serious, "they're pink, so they're /obviously/ girls' shoes and in a shade that's fashionable right now, too. And with the fleece and all, you'll be able to wear them in all sorts of weather, when all the other girls are wearing clumpy horrible things. I think they're a lucky find."
Winston cannot be helped watching Hattie. At least he doesn't hide the fact. Of course he doesn't look apologetic about it either. He's still not found the loose thread yet, but he's mostly working without looking since it's more entertaining to watch the others. He stays out of the Great Boot Debate entirely. He is just a boy. "What's wrong with them?" Genny asks suspiciously as one hand almost reaches out to touch the pinkness. "It might be too pink," she decides before looking down at her feet and then at the boots. "And my socks don't match them." She has on ugly thick brown socks.
Rhodya nods along with all Hattie's saying, her smile widening as she watches the girl's resistance break down. "Nothing wrong with them," Rhodya assures her, giving the sole a nice knock. It makes a nice hollow sound that proves absolutely nothing, but maybe it sounds reassuring. She holds the edge of the boot up next to Genny's brown socks. "I don't know what you're talkin' about, saying they don't go. Don't you know pink and brown are best friends?"
Winston gets another sweater flung at him for that, whether he's finished with the first or not. Hattie throws the one she's working on across her shoulders and goes to inch up the cuff of her trousers, revealing pink socks slouching over the rim of deep brown boots. "See?" she proposes to Genny. "Pink and brown. They go. Wouldn't wear these together if they didn't."
The first sweater does not get dropped, but the second smacks into Winston rather than be caught. "A hard woman," he tells Hattie with a wink. "I like that." But after slinging the second sweater over his shoulder he sets to actually working on the first and gets it done quickly before folding it. And Genny is staring at both of the other candidates like she doesn't believe them. But then she says, "I want to try them on." And she plops down on the floor and holds both her feet up in the air.
Rhodya's been so busy trying to get shoes on this little monster that she barely even noticed the sweater interplay going on behind her, but something getting thrown attracts her attention. She blinks at Winston, then rolls her eyes at him. Clearly, whatever's going on over there is his own fault. "Here you go," she says after returning her attention to Genny. She slips the boots on neatly and buckles them up. "Make sure you walk around in them so you can feel how comfy they are. Stomp 'em real hard a couple times, too, that helps." Or at least it's fun, and hopefully playing with the boots will help seal Genny's decision.
Having gained little with glowering, Hattie sticks her tongue out at Winston this time instead. "You would," she mutters. "Figures you'd want a-" But, whoops, there's a child present and she abandons the rest of that comment to be finished however he presumes. She sets another sweater down on the shelf and walks off several paces down the row with a, "Hang on," thrown back over her shoulder. When she returns, she's got a pair of child's gloves in her hands, in a shade to match the boots. "People /always/ want boots and gloves that match," she declares.
Winston's got the second sweater done and when Rhodya looks at him he just winks. As for Hattie's glower he just tells her with his best grin, "Be happy to discuss what I would or would not with you later." Shameless entirely. But there's nothing in his words to alarm a six turn old. Likely his tone goes right over her head. And as for that six turn old she stands up and jumps up and down. The boots are just big enough she'll be lucky to get a month or two's wear out of them before outgrowing, but that doesn't stop her from stomping around. When Hattie returns with gloves she squeals like to break eardrums. "Pink!"
Rhodya throws her hands up over her ears with a grimace, but she shoots Hattie a most grateful look. "Now, those just go perfect with your boots," Rhodya says. Already, they're 'her' boots. "Don't think I could say no to pretty things like that." Planting her hands on her knees, the candidate summons up a grin for Genny, waiting for her verdict.
Hattie jumps at the girl's squeal and stops dead simply to stare for a moment. "Now, see, since they match and they're like a set and all, if you want the gloves: you gotta take the boots too," she tells her, once she's regained her hearing enough to hear herself think, let alone speak. "I mean, it'd be an awful shame to pass up the chance of a set like this, especially with things in short supply." She smiles over Genny's head at Rhodya: see, teamwork, plan in motion.
Genny holds her hands out with fingers wriggling. "Gimme those! Gimme those!" she demands as she grabs for the gloves. "Oh! Yes. These are mine. Mine!" She'll tug the gloves on as well even though she's inside. Gloves and boots she look around to be sure everyone notices how great she is now. And lucky for everyone her foster mother appears having heard the shriek outside. "Genny?" she calls to the little girl.
Rhodya answers Hattie with a thumbs-up, snuck in while Genny's distracted by the gloves. "She's here, ma'am," Rhodya calls out to the foster mother, waving an arm to catch the woman's eye as she walks past this particular aisle. "Got her a nice new pair of boots, and some gloves to match. You better go show 'em off, Genny," she suggests.
The gloves are relinquished quickly and Hattie goes back to sweater-folding as though the garment might form a barrier between her and the child. "Yes, go show them off," she echoes Rhodya, hint of a plea creeping into her voice. Whilst she's back at the sweater pile, another gets thrown at Winston for good measure, since he technically - technically - got them into this and all.
Looking harried still Genny's foster mother approaches and gives the group of candidates a grateful look. "Thank you all so much," she says with a grin. Winston grins back and before Genny can run and demand the woman's hand he gets a quick kiss for his thanks. "Oh, I had almost nothing to do with it. But I'll be happy to pass any kisses along." As Genny grabs her foster mother's hand the male candidate looks to the other two. "Ladies?" he asks while waggling his brows. Which comes as the sweater gets thrown at him of course.
Rhodya doesn't even bother to give Winston a withering look for his latest come-on. Still sitting where she was helping the girl try on shoes, she just waits for Genny and her mother to get out of sight before falling onto her back, arms dramatically splayed out. "I'm startin' to think I don't like kids near so much as I thought I did," she confesses, keeping her voice low lest it echo along the stores and catch up with Genny. "You saved my butt, Hattie, that's sure. /You/ were no good at all," she accuses Winston, looking at him (upside-down from her angle) and aiming a finger.
"I think I'm gonna label certain age ranges as 'safe' and 'not safe'," Hattie responds, peering about just in-case another child should appear or Genny make a reappearance. "You found her the right shoes and all. In a decent time, too," she says, leaning to offer Rhodya a hand to her feet. "But yeah, I gotta agree that /you/," she glares over her shoulder at Winston, "were pretty useless. And by pretty, I mean completely." She looks down again, but there's no sweater to fling and she looks terribly disappointed.
"Excuse me?" Winston says looking hurt. He even goes so far as to sniffle. "I was working with her for near an hour, ladies. She was determined that anything I showed her was 'boy boots.' He rises his voice on those last two words mimicking the girl who's run on out with her foster mother running after her. "But if you want me to make it up to you..." He trails off and just winks. Because she's free of sweaters after all.
Rhodya takes that hand with a nod of thanks and hefts herself back up. "Well, like we said, Winston, you've still got some things to learn. And I doubt you're gonna learn 'em leering at Hattie like that, silly thing." Crossing her arms, she leans back on the shelf to watch the other two, bemused. "Just get more sweaters thrown at you, that's all." She plants the tip of her shoe on a nearby, fallen sweater, giving it a little push towards Hattie. Just in case she'd like to re-use it as ammunition.
"Near an hour," Hattie repeats. "And Rhodya got that done in... considerably less than an hour. Therefore," she grins, "girls win." She turns to claim the pile of folded sweaters on the shelf and swipes the fallen one from the floor. The latter she presses towards Rhodya. "I think it's your turn. Go ahead. Makes you feel a little better. Can't save that one anyway." Whether it's the garment or Winston she's talking about is debatable. A smirk gets directed at Winston as the Candidate goes to re-shelve the clothing in its proper home.
Winston's head shakes as he looks mournfully at Rhodya. "I wasn't leering at her," he assures. "I was admiring her figure. She's got a fine figure so how could I resist?" And then she's gone and Winston watches her go with an admiring sigh. "She is a fine looking woman," he repeats before turning to tip an imaginary hat to Rhodya. "Girls win. Always in my book. Go on and throw it at me, but I can't promise not to retaliate."
Rhodya takes the sweater, bundling it up tightly in a very throw-able ball. "Well, maybe I will, but not just yet. I've still got a headache from that girl screaming, and I don't want to aggravate it by throwin' things." So the sweater gets tucked against her side, held in place by an elbow. "Oh, say." She looks after Hattie, already well gone en route to her next task. "Forgot to talk to her about the used robes thing. Don't s'pose you've had the chance?" She returns to Winston with an eyebrow raised.
"I can cure your headache," Winston offers with a friendly grin. "If you just have a seat and let me rub your temples I can make it go away." He wiggles his fingers at her. "They're great fingers you know. Work wonders on more than feet." He slides his hands into his pockets though and shakes his head. "Not had a chance to speak to her. She's busier than most. A shame because I would love to speak to her alone." He lets out a big sigh.
"You're really goin' after her!" Rhodya remarks, pleased by this observation. Who cares if it's true? It's true now that she's said it. "Hattie's your type, huh? Preeetty girl," Rhodya says, her tone luring. C'mon, give her the dish. Since gossip is much more interesting than her silly headache, she waves away his offered temple massage without a word.
"Going after her?" Winston says with a laugh. "Darlin' you're thinking all kinds of things no one else is." But he looks after the former assistant headwoman even though she's long gone. "She's a pretty woman, that's for sure. And she's...intriguing." Shaking his head he looks back at Rhodya. "She teases me something terrible when we're alone and I never did get a chance to see if I could call her on it. So now I'm just dying to know is all. You talk to her feel free to put in a good word, yea?"
Rhodya's got such a smirk on her face, she clearly doesn't believe him. Just curious, right. "If I feel like puttin' in a good word, sure I will," she answers, giving him a Cheshire cat smile.
"Rhodya, darlin'," Winston teases as he pulls his hands from his pockets. He holds them out imploringly, "You just tell her nice things and I'll make it worth your while. Although there's a good chance it won't matter anyway. Her and me. Who knows what could happen, yea? One or both of us could wander off the sands without a chance to do a thing." Now his head shakes a bit. "It don't mean anything at all. Just curious about her."
"I'm not sayin' the feline's gonna change its spots," Rhodya replies, each word slowed down by her drawl. She's enjoying this too much to leave him alone. "But even a fellow who likes everyone surely can't help likin' somebody just a little bit better than the rest. And I'm all for you figurin' out what about her's got your eye. Personally, I think it's 'cause she's got brains and brass enough to keep you on your toes." Letting the sweater loose from her elbow, she wiggles it at him - a reminder of Hattie - and then leans back with a grin.
"Don't you go making something out of it that ain't there is all I am saying," Winston says with a loud chuckle. "Or else I won't recommend a single person to come see you about a new pair of shoes." There's a grin when he threatens her work and a wink following that. "Anyway darlin', I'm too shallow to admire a woman for her brains. All about what's lower on the body, yea?" His eyes drift down over her and even as he does it he ducks like he expects something to be tossed at him.
And he's right. The sweater goes zipping over his head, just barely missing him when he ducks. "Heck on you," Rhodya says accusingly. Whatever that means. She leans back against the nearest shelf with her arms crossed - Hattie may have gone back to work, but she's clearly checked out for the day - and shakes her head at him. "You keep your eyes up where they belong, else maybe I will start makin' things up about you. Speakin' of shoes, though," she points at the ones he's wearing, "I've near got your order finished. A day or two more and you'll have 'em, along with your hat back, I think."
"Knew it," he says with a chuckle as the sweater nearly misses him. Winston looks at her and winks. "Darling, your aim needs work. Should always aim for the center of mass. The head is too easy to miss." One hand pats his stomach. "A stomach is a good place to aim for. Want to try again?" He bends down to pick up the sweater and holds it out. "And new boots, love? Excellent! I have been eagerly awaiting them. Although I will cry when you return my hat." There's a loud sniffle for that. "Can't blame my eyes for seeking a pretty sight though."
Rhodya snatches the sweater back, but the only thing she throws at him is a smile. "Sure, but hittin' the head is more satisfying." She tucks the sweater under her elbow again, there to wait until he provokes her again. "I'd've had the boots sooner, of course, but you know." She gestures around the store rooms: candidates' chores, what a pain. "Stuff kind of got in the way." Rhodya grins.
Winston's head nods and he lifts one hand to scratch at an oversized ear. "Tell me, Rhodya, my dear. All serious. You think you got a chance out there." He waves his hand around a bit and then adds, "When they hatch I mean. You hoping to impress? Or you just doing it because you were asked and will be just as happy to get back to cobblering when it's over?"
Rhodya blinks. Well, that was a change of subject. She shifts the sweater to a more secure position, hung over her shoulder, and frees up her arms so she can hug herself. "Tell you the truth," she says, "I've got cold feet. Got all excited when T'rev asked me, but now I'm here, it's like." She widens her eyes and gives her head a shake, because the feeling of being a candidate is too weird to put in words. "And seriously? I don't feel like it's gonna happen. Feels too unreal."
"Like you're just dreaming some weird and long complicated thing?" Winston asks her with a sympathetic smile. "Truth be told, Rhodya, I'm scared out of my mind about the whole thing. Not like every kid don't dream of maybe impressing someday, yea? But to actually be out there and take the chance? Kind of...well, makes a person think a lot." He pauses to wink at her. "Even me."
"And here I thought you didn't care for thinking," Rhodya teases him with a quick smile. She shakes her head. "I had that dream when I was a real little kid, but I grew up, and turn after turn, I never had a dragon so much as sniff at me. And now I've moved on to having other dreams in life, /now/ is when they Search me?" She gives a little tsk, as if she'd take all the dragons of the world to task if she could reach them. "I'm scared of havin' a dragon in my head, and I'm scared to give that up - all those other dreams I had. Sure ain't the party I envisioned as a kid," she adds, with a slip of a grin.
Winston's grin is almost a nervous one as he laughs at her words. "I know the feeling. Had plenty of dreams in my time and it's not until I've been here for three turns that one takes an interest." He lowers his voice and says, "Still not sure it was not some cruel joke Phara wanted to play on me though. She thinks I got all kinds of problems after all." Then he shakes his head. "We'll see what happens I suppose. Gonna have to figure something out if I don't impress I suppose. If I do I guess a lot's decided for me."
"Ain't that a kicker," Rhodya says, shaking her head thoughtfully. "One dragon looks at you, BAM." She slaps her palms together. "That's it for life. No going back to the hold for you, no gettin' married for me. Almost feels like bad luck, learnin' so early in life what's not in the cards for ya." She tilts her head, scrutinizing Winston closely. "But imagine you on a bronze. Or a green!" She can't help but squeeze some amusement out of that one, letting out a bark of laughter.
Shaking his head Winston laughs lowly. "I am not sure a green would find me suitable. Ain't so interested in all that entails." But he shrugs his shoulders and says, "Truth be told I'd not mind any dragon finding me. As much as it would be weird to get used to it could be fun. Think about being able to go anywhere. Oh, but I didn't know you wanted to be married." Now his head shakes and he gives her a sympathetic look. "I suppose that would keep that from happening, yes. But riders still get involved in long term relationships. Weyrmating can be just like marriage and you can have kids and all that way. What about you though?" Now he lifts a brow at her and flashes a cocky grin. "What color you fancy?"
Rhodya sticks out her hand, waving the fingers slightly as she admires them. Ringless things that they are. "This close," she tells him, holding up her fingers just a centimeter apart. Then she shoves her left hand into her pocket, so she can forget about it. "Well, I figure if it's anything, it'll be green. My mother rode green, plus I figure if I've got to have someone in my head, I'd be more comfortable with a little lady keepin' me company."
"Ahh. There is that. A lady in my head would not be such a bad thing." Winston mulls this over silently as he looks at her hand. "Well, tell you what? I'll marry you. Right now, Rhodya my love. Let's run down and find a harper and get the honeymoon started." He winks at her and leans forward as he whispers, "Or we can get right on with the honeymoon, darlin'. I know a little corner we can go to right now." He leans back again and lifts his hands to shield his face in case she throws the sweater.
She does, but this time she aims lower - in fact, she aims a little lower than the middle, but since it's a sweater it only fuffs into him and falls down without great impact. "Winston, in some ways, you are too much like him. So don't you push me - and don't play, either." Her right hand clamps down on the elbow of that submerged left, as if she needed to hold it in place and out of sight. "It ain't a playin' business." Beat. "Anyway, you didn't say what color you're thinking of."
Winston bends over and says, "Oh, my dignity! Wounded!" He slides down to the floor and sits there looking stunned. "I don't know if I will survive this." He looks at her hand though hidden away and lifts his eyes to her face. "Not ever teasing. Tell you what we both walk off the sands alone I'll promise to cleave unto you that night." Well, maybe he's joking a little bit. "And I ain't sure. Like I said, be happy with any dragon thought I was suited to it. Wouldn't be lying to say I'd sit mighty fine on a bronze though. Or a brown. Something big, yea? To hold up my ego."
Rhodya grins, shaking a fist at him. "That'll learn ya," she says without remorse. Then laughs. "Winston, if you Impress a big fella, and I get myself a lady green, that's about the only way you're gonna wind up gettin' my pants off. Nothing personal, but we're after different sorts of romance, and they don't suit."
"That'll learn me, eh?" Winston says with a roguish grin. "Learn me to ask you if you're gonna start kissing better what you throw things at?" This time he drops both his hands protectively lower as he laughs. "Ok, ok, I admit that was too much even for me. Forgive me, sweetheart. And romance I can do. Just can't do it long term is all. But I hear you. Besides you went and all befriended me and now I have to listen to what you say. Such a chore woman!"
Rhodya's eyebrows go straight up, but when he's so quick to apologize for crossing the line, he saves himself from retribution. "You watch it," is all she tells him, with a wagging finger. "Anyway, I thought you liked to have women come talk to you. And that you didn't care if there was sex for you at the end of it." She grins broadly at him, her eyebrows still raised, but now expectantly.
"Oh, come on now, darlin'. Wasn't I supposed to say that? Women like a man that's not thinking about the bottom line right?" Winston's got a grin on as he says it and there's no way at all to know for sure if he jokes or not. He does push himself up to his feet and look around. "Suppose we ought to think about getting some dinner?" His grin only grows and he takes a step forward although it puts him nowhere near her. "Unless you're liking to be spending time with me in here all alone?"
"Nah." Rhodya picks the tossed sweater off the ground and flings it over her shoulder again - waste not. "We spend too much time alone and people're bound to get ideas; next thing you know we're on latrine duty like poor Sooz. Besides," she adds, grinning as she falls into step beside him. "I'm hungry."
"Poor Sooz indeed. You hear what that was all about? Something about a love affair?" Winston's got no idea and certainly would prefer to speculate. "Although I hear the weyrling talking to her was a woman. Maybe she stole our poor Sooz's man?" He heads for the exit because his stomach rumbles to prove he's a hungry man.
"Nope, haven't heard," Rhodya replies. "But I plan to get the story out of her next time I see her. Why, I'll likely have it by the time your boots're finished," she muses, as they walk out to the living cavern.
"Well, if you can share I expect you to. Or I won't be sharing my gossip no more!" Winston grins and looks down at his feet a moment. "New boots will be great. Not as great as a new wardrobe I suppose, but a man has to look good however he can. Appreciate it, Rhodya my love." He's quiet in thought before he says, "Green you may think of, but promise you get a boy and you come calling when he misses a flight and you want to work it off." He steps away from her then to be sure she doesn't try to slap him.
He's already too far away to slap, so Rhodya glares at him instead. "That is /not/ going to happen," Rhodya says, "on so many levels." She eyes him for a few moments as they walk, then pulls up a little smirk. "You gonna go lookin' for Hattie if ever your big man comes up shy? Think she'd take you in?"
"Hattie? No, I think I'd rather have her on my mind than anything else," Winston muses like he's not given it too much thought. Even if maybe he has. "Not going to look for someone I like to take me in. Just grab some willing woman. Imagine that won't be an issue. And I continue to be wounded by your desire to avoid my bed, woman!"
"So you /do/ admit you like her," Rhodya says, and even though she doesn't say 'Ah-HA!' you can feel it in her tone. She smirks, smug as you please, but lets that be her definitive word on the issue. "Far as I'm concerned, it ain't me avoiding your bed. It's that you ain't earned the right to be with me; may not be enough man for me." She gives him an unfavorable, appraising look, but she can't help but grin a little while she's doing it.
"See how you wound me?" Winston stumbles as he walks and he doesn't even dignify her remarks about Hattie with an answer. He just looks mournfully at Rhodya. "Suppose earning ain't gonna happen. Think I might sneak in though?" He looks overly hopefully and comically lecherous as he asks this. He even licks his lips and rubs his hands together.
Rhodya slaps his hands down, so he doesn't get far with that covetous hand-rub. "Ain't no sneakin' anywhere. Anyway, we're vergin' right on indecent talk, here, so why don't you think of something else, hmm?" For the lady.
There's a heavy sigh as Winston casts his eyes about like he's seeking a topic. "Awful cold weather we're having, Miss Rhodya. And did you know there's a fabric shortage?" He shakes his head and looks at his boots. "Getting new boots too. There's this adorable cobbler making em for me."
Rhodya rolls her eyes at him, but she laughs. "Well, I can tell your heart ain't in it, but you'll get better. Promise there's things you can talk about that don't involve the bedroom," she says. Then the rush of noise in the living cavern, stuffed to capacity right now as what seems like the whole Weyr descends on it, descends over them, and their conversation (dispirited or not) has to be put on pause while they fight their way through the crowd for food and a place to sit.
Where: Stores
When: Afternoon on day 4, month 1, turn 19
What: Three candidates have stores duty. Winston enlists the help of the ladies with a difficult child. He gets abused most horribly for it. Then he gets some alone time with Rhodya. And he spends some of it discussing a certain other candidate who has left already.
It's only an hour or so until dinner, but that doesn't mean that work in the Stores is drawing to anything resembling a close. With the fabric shortages and the bombardment of requests aimed at those faced with the joy of staffing the shelves and caverns today, it's been no picnic, either. Hattie stands to one side, almost outright arguing with a former colleague, the assistant headwoman beside her gesticulating wildly and pointing her back towards the shelves and towards a disorganized pile of unravelling sweaters.
Back in his old stomping ground Winston's been enjoying his day no matter all the trouble with the fabric shortage. He's done his share of smoothing ruffled feathers as well as just fetching and carrying. Large requests such as the random piece of furniture he's been happy to help haul to wherever it needs to go. Currently he's trying to help a girl of about six select a pair of boots. Her old ones got a hole in the toe after all. Her exasperated foster mother has slipped out with a promise to return leaving Winston to try to find 'pretty' boots like 'in a story.'
Hearing the tension in the voices ahead of her, Rhodya slows down on her way back from a different aisle, where she was sorting bedsheets. She pokes her head around the shelf to see what's going on, her eyes flicking from Hattie to that former colleague, and waits a few beats to make sure nobody's yelling before she tip-toes out the rest of the way. She's a bit hard to miss, tall thing that she is, and now she's standing right in Hattie's field of vision, waiting to catch her eye. 'Can I help?' she mouths silently once she has it.
Hattie bends to scrabble a few of the sweaters into her arms, meeting Rhodya's gaze as she straightens. She tries to leave the intensity in her eyes aimed at the ground, but it flickers before fading enough for her to nod and seem pleasant enough. "Thank you," she says, offering over a couple of the sweaters as she goes to claim the rest from the floor. "She's getting such a kick outta ordering me around," the Candidate mutters, with a glare aimed over her shoulder at the assistant headwoman. "Come on. Let's get out of her sight." Hattie goes to lead the way somewhere quieter, path going past Winston and his hunt for boots.
"Now, sweetheart," Winston tells the girl as she turns her nose up at a pair of red boots. "You're not seeing the potential of these, but if you say you believe they will pinch at the toes tomorrow then we must try again." Despite having been at this nearly an hour he doesn't seem to have lost his patience yet. He rummages around in the box and as he does so his eyes find Hattie. And since she's walking close he appreciates that with a whistle. This is followed by a chuckle and a grin. "You ladies need help?" he offers as he comes up with a pair of pink and yellow boots.
Rhodya twists a look over her shoulder as she and Hattie start walking away, making sure she gets a good look at the person who's been tormenting Hattie. Best to avoid, and all that. "Probably jealous," Rhodya posits with a shrug. "You're the one who got promoted real fast, if I remember you rightly." But she pauses, frowning, when she hears Winston's whistle. "You be civil," she orders him. Looking from him to the little girl, though, she lightens up. "You look like the one that'd need help, anyway. Ain't shoes supposed to be my specialty?"
Winston's whistle draws Hattie to a stop and gets him a sour look and a sharp remark that's begun and dies as she notices the little girl. "Hattie," she tells Rhodya, "and I don't know about jealous, but she's got a vicious little mind." Since she's stopped, she drops the sweaters at her feet, keeping one that she begins to look over to locate the unravelling thread. She smirks and looks between the girl, Rhodya and Winston, pleased or amused. "Why don't you step aside and let a woman show you how it's done?" she proposes to Winston, with a nod towards Rhodya.
"I am always happy to see a woman show me something," Winston says with a chuckle as the six turn old declares the boots too yellow. He drops them in the box and then stands up. "Now, Genny, these lovely ladies are going to help you as well." He smiles cheerfully at the girl who looks at the two women suspiciously. "I want them pretty," she declares forcefully. "And not like boy boots. I don't want boy boots. Eww. Boys are gross." This last is said with a look to Winston.
Rhodya quirks up a smile as she nudges past Winston. "Boys are gross," she agrees, making a point not to touch him at all on her way over to Genny. "Now, what kind of pretty were you thinking? You like pink?" She squats in front of the girl and starts poking through the pile of kid's boots on the shelf. After a glance at Genny's feet, she pulls out a pair of sky blue rain boots with pink flowers on them. "Anything like this?"
"Seems you're all out of charm today, Winston," Hattie remarks, tying off the thread she finds so it can't unravel further. "Even the young ones are catching on. What kind of fashion disasters have you been trying to convince her of, anyway?" She casts her gaze towards the numerous pairs of rejected boots. The boots Rhodya selects get a nod and a, "They're nice. Not like boy boots. Everyone'll be jealous of those, 'specially with those flowers," aimed at Genny.
Winston's chuckle is all the answer the ladies get. Clearly he's not worried about losing his charm. He does lean against the shelves with his arms folded over his chest. "Those are blue," Genny points out with a scowl. "Blue is for boys. I am not wearing /boy/ boots! Eww. Are you sure you're not a boy?" She looks at Rhodya and Hattie like maybe they are boys in disguise. "I want /pretty/ boots!" One besocked foot stomps down.
Pressing her lips together to squelch a laugh, Rhodya rolls a glance back at Hattie. Can you believe this kid? "Sky blue's not the same as boy blue," Rhodya points out, but she returns the little boots to the shelf. "'Cause sky blue's actually pretty. But all right, all right, let's try somethin' all pink. And fuzzy, how about these?" Her next suggestion is a pair of pink moleskin boots with fleecey insides. "Now /these/ - they're cute, huh? Bet they fit real comfy, too." She puts a hand inside to touch the fleece, then holds a boot out to tempt Genny into doing the same.
"I ain't no boy," Hattie assures Genny, exchanging a glance with Rhodya that has her suddenly staring intently at the sweater in her grip in an attempt not to laugh. She picks another up from the floor and shoves it towards Winston, all but smacking it into his chest. "Don't just stand there, do something useful. Find the thread; tie it off; fold." She eyes the next pair of boots, tensed and awaiting another fit of temper from the child. "Hey, I know. If you can find some you sorta like," she starts, trying to catch Genny's attention. "You could fix them up a little bit to how she might like, right?" finishes with another glance at Rhodya, with a shrug and apologetic gaze. Anything to stop the kid throwing a fit, right?
"Trust me, Genny, they are not boys," Winston assures the young girl in such an innocent voice with such an innocent expression that likely only the six turn old will not find something offensive about it. When the sweater comes to his chest he clutches it and looks at Hattie. "For you, darlin', I would do anything." And so still leaning back he begins to look for that loose thread. Genny eyes the boots in question however and she says, "They look too hot." It might be getting clearer why her foster mother abandoned her. "And I am not fixing them up! I don't want to fix them up! I want them pretty." But she looks at that pair of pink boots again like maybe she might be interested.
Rhodya grimaces at Hattie's suggestion, but her hint of a nod suggests she agrees with the strategy. "They ain't too hot," Rhodya assures her, noticing that look. "Fleece like this has a mind of its own, knows just how toasty your feet ought'a be and keeps 'em just right." Trying to increase the lure, she undoes the three (pink!) buckles and holds the open shoe out for Genny. "'Sides, once they see you in these cute things, them other girls you hang around with are gonna be jealous as heck." An idea strikes. "If you don't believe me, just ask Hattie there. Just today she had a girl get all jealous over her shoes, so you know she's got good taste. What d'you think of these boots, Hattie?"
Hattie glowers at Winston, eyes narrowed and filled with an unspoken threat. Sweater folded, she sets it temporarily down in a free space on the nearby shelf and bends to find another to start on, glaring right back at Winston again once she has, in-case he watches that move too closely. It takes a beat for her to start answering Rhodya's question in her best convincing voice. "Well," she begins, very serious, "they're pink, so they're /obviously/ girls' shoes and in a shade that's fashionable right now, too. And with the fleece and all, you'll be able to wear them in all sorts of weather, when all the other girls are wearing clumpy horrible things. I think they're a lucky find."
Winston cannot be helped watching Hattie. At least he doesn't hide the fact. Of course he doesn't look apologetic about it either. He's still not found the loose thread yet, but he's mostly working without looking since it's more entertaining to watch the others. He stays out of the Great Boot Debate entirely. He is just a boy. "What's wrong with them?" Genny asks suspiciously as one hand almost reaches out to touch the pinkness. "It might be too pink," she decides before looking down at her feet and then at the boots. "And my socks don't match them." She has on ugly thick brown socks.
Rhodya nods along with all Hattie's saying, her smile widening as she watches the girl's resistance break down. "Nothing wrong with them," Rhodya assures her, giving the sole a nice knock. It makes a nice hollow sound that proves absolutely nothing, but maybe it sounds reassuring. She holds the edge of the boot up next to Genny's brown socks. "I don't know what you're talkin' about, saying they don't go. Don't you know pink and brown are best friends?"
Winston gets another sweater flung at him for that, whether he's finished with the first or not. Hattie throws the one she's working on across her shoulders and goes to inch up the cuff of her trousers, revealing pink socks slouching over the rim of deep brown boots. "See?" she proposes to Genny. "Pink and brown. They go. Wouldn't wear these together if they didn't."
The first sweater does not get dropped, but the second smacks into Winston rather than be caught. "A hard woman," he tells Hattie with a wink. "I like that." But after slinging the second sweater over his shoulder he sets to actually working on the first and gets it done quickly before folding it. And Genny is staring at both of the other candidates like she doesn't believe them. But then she says, "I want to try them on." And she plops down on the floor and holds both her feet up in the air.
Rhodya's been so busy trying to get shoes on this little monster that she barely even noticed the sweater interplay going on behind her, but something getting thrown attracts her attention. She blinks at Winston, then rolls her eyes at him. Clearly, whatever's going on over there is his own fault. "Here you go," she says after returning her attention to Genny. She slips the boots on neatly and buckles them up. "Make sure you walk around in them so you can feel how comfy they are. Stomp 'em real hard a couple times, too, that helps." Or at least it's fun, and hopefully playing with the boots will help seal Genny's decision.
Having gained little with glowering, Hattie sticks her tongue out at Winston this time instead. "You would," she mutters. "Figures you'd want a-" But, whoops, there's a child present and she abandons the rest of that comment to be finished however he presumes. She sets another sweater down on the shelf and walks off several paces down the row with a, "Hang on," thrown back over her shoulder. When she returns, she's got a pair of child's gloves in her hands, in a shade to match the boots. "People /always/ want boots and gloves that match," she declares.
Winston's got the second sweater done and when Rhodya looks at him he just winks. As for Hattie's glower he just tells her with his best grin, "Be happy to discuss what I would or would not with you later." Shameless entirely. But there's nothing in his words to alarm a six turn old. Likely his tone goes right over her head. And as for that six turn old she stands up and jumps up and down. The boots are just big enough she'll be lucky to get a month or two's wear out of them before outgrowing, but that doesn't stop her from stomping around. When Hattie returns with gloves she squeals like to break eardrums. "Pink!"
Rhodya throws her hands up over her ears with a grimace, but she shoots Hattie a most grateful look. "Now, those just go perfect with your boots," Rhodya says. Already, they're 'her' boots. "Don't think I could say no to pretty things like that." Planting her hands on her knees, the candidate summons up a grin for Genny, waiting for her verdict.
Hattie jumps at the girl's squeal and stops dead simply to stare for a moment. "Now, see, since they match and they're like a set and all, if you want the gloves: you gotta take the boots too," she tells her, once she's regained her hearing enough to hear herself think, let alone speak. "I mean, it'd be an awful shame to pass up the chance of a set like this, especially with things in short supply." She smiles over Genny's head at Rhodya: see, teamwork, plan in motion.
Genny holds her hands out with fingers wriggling. "Gimme those! Gimme those!" she demands as she grabs for the gloves. "Oh! Yes. These are mine. Mine!" She'll tug the gloves on as well even though she's inside. Gloves and boots she look around to be sure everyone notices how great she is now. And lucky for everyone her foster mother appears having heard the shriek outside. "Genny?" she calls to the little girl.
Rhodya answers Hattie with a thumbs-up, snuck in while Genny's distracted by the gloves. "She's here, ma'am," Rhodya calls out to the foster mother, waving an arm to catch the woman's eye as she walks past this particular aisle. "Got her a nice new pair of boots, and some gloves to match. You better go show 'em off, Genny," she suggests.
The gloves are relinquished quickly and Hattie goes back to sweater-folding as though the garment might form a barrier between her and the child. "Yes, go show them off," she echoes Rhodya, hint of a plea creeping into her voice. Whilst she's back at the sweater pile, another gets thrown at Winston for good measure, since he technically - technically - got them into this and all.
Looking harried still Genny's foster mother approaches and gives the group of candidates a grateful look. "Thank you all so much," she says with a grin. Winston grins back and before Genny can run and demand the woman's hand he gets a quick kiss for his thanks. "Oh, I had almost nothing to do with it. But I'll be happy to pass any kisses along." As Genny grabs her foster mother's hand the male candidate looks to the other two. "Ladies?" he asks while waggling his brows. Which comes as the sweater gets thrown at him of course.
Rhodya doesn't even bother to give Winston a withering look for his latest come-on. Still sitting where she was helping the girl try on shoes, she just waits for Genny and her mother to get out of sight before falling onto her back, arms dramatically splayed out. "I'm startin' to think I don't like kids near so much as I thought I did," she confesses, keeping her voice low lest it echo along the stores and catch up with Genny. "You saved my butt, Hattie, that's sure. /You/ were no good at all," she accuses Winston, looking at him (upside-down from her angle) and aiming a finger.
"I think I'm gonna label certain age ranges as 'safe' and 'not safe'," Hattie responds, peering about just in-case another child should appear or Genny make a reappearance. "You found her the right shoes and all. In a decent time, too," she says, leaning to offer Rhodya a hand to her feet. "But yeah, I gotta agree that /you/," she glares over her shoulder at Winston, "were pretty useless. And by pretty, I mean completely." She looks down again, but there's no sweater to fling and she looks terribly disappointed.
"Excuse me?" Winston says looking hurt. He even goes so far as to sniffle. "I was working with her for near an hour, ladies. She was determined that anything I showed her was 'boy boots.' He rises his voice on those last two words mimicking the girl who's run on out with her foster mother running after her. "But if you want me to make it up to you..." He trails off and just winks. Because she's free of sweaters after all.
Rhodya takes that hand with a nod of thanks and hefts herself back up. "Well, like we said, Winston, you've still got some things to learn. And I doubt you're gonna learn 'em leering at Hattie like that, silly thing." Crossing her arms, she leans back on the shelf to watch the other two, bemused. "Just get more sweaters thrown at you, that's all." She plants the tip of her shoe on a nearby, fallen sweater, giving it a little push towards Hattie. Just in case she'd like to re-use it as ammunition.
"Near an hour," Hattie repeats. "And Rhodya got that done in... considerably less than an hour. Therefore," she grins, "girls win." She turns to claim the pile of folded sweaters on the shelf and swipes the fallen one from the floor. The latter she presses towards Rhodya. "I think it's your turn. Go ahead. Makes you feel a little better. Can't save that one anyway." Whether it's the garment or Winston she's talking about is debatable. A smirk gets directed at Winston as the Candidate goes to re-shelve the clothing in its proper home.
Winston's head shakes as he looks mournfully at Rhodya. "I wasn't leering at her," he assures. "I was admiring her figure. She's got a fine figure so how could I resist?" And then she's gone and Winston watches her go with an admiring sigh. "She is a fine looking woman," he repeats before turning to tip an imaginary hat to Rhodya. "Girls win. Always in my book. Go on and throw it at me, but I can't promise not to retaliate."
Rhodya takes the sweater, bundling it up tightly in a very throw-able ball. "Well, maybe I will, but not just yet. I've still got a headache from that girl screaming, and I don't want to aggravate it by throwin' things." So the sweater gets tucked against her side, held in place by an elbow. "Oh, say." She looks after Hattie, already well gone en route to her next task. "Forgot to talk to her about the used robes thing. Don't s'pose you've had the chance?" She returns to Winston with an eyebrow raised.
"I can cure your headache," Winston offers with a friendly grin. "If you just have a seat and let me rub your temples I can make it go away." He wiggles his fingers at her. "They're great fingers you know. Work wonders on more than feet." He slides his hands into his pockets though and shakes his head. "Not had a chance to speak to her. She's busier than most. A shame because I would love to speak to her alone." He lets out a big sigh.
"You're really goin' after her!" Rhodya remarks, pleased by this observation. Who cares if it's true? It's true now that she's said it. "Hattie's your type, huh? Preeetty girl," Rhodya says, her tone luring. C'mon, give her the dish. Since gossip is much more interesting than her silly headache, she waves away his offered temple massage without a word.
"Going after her?" Winston says with a laugh. "Darlin' you're thinking all kinds of things no one else is." But he looks after the former assistant headwoman even though she's long gone. "She's a pretty woman, that's for sure. And she's...intriguing." Shaking his head he looks back at Rhodya. "She teases me something terrible when we're alone and I never did get a chance to see if I could call her on it. So now I'm just dying to know is all. You talk to her feel free to put in a good word, yea?"
Rhodya's got such a smirk on her face, she clearly doesn't believe him. Just curious, right. "If I feel like puttin' in a good word, sure I will," she answers, giving him a Cheshire cat smile.
"Rhodya, darlin'," Winston teases as he pulls his hands from his pockets. He holds them out imploringly, "You just tell her nice things and I'll make it worth your while. Although there's a good chance it won't matter anyway. Her and me. Who knows what could happen, yea? One or both of us could wander off the sands without a chance to do a thing." Now his head shakes a bit. "It don't mean anything at all. Just curious about her."
"I'm not sayin' the feline's gonna change its spots," Rhodya replies, each word slowed down by her drawl. She's enjoying this too much to leave him alone. "But even a fellow who likes everyone surely can't help likin' somebody just a little bit better than the rest. And I'm all for you figurin' out what about her's got your eye. Personally, I think it's 'cause she's got brains and brass enough to keep you on your toes." Letting the sweater loose from her elbow, she wiggles it at him - a reminder of Hattie - and then leans back with a grin.
"Don't you go making something out of it that ain't there is all I am saying," Winston says with a loud chuckle. "Or else I won't recommend a single person to come see you about a new pair of shoes." There's a grin when he threatens her work and a wink following that. "Anyway darlin', I'm too shallow to admire a woman for her brains. All about what's lower on the body, yea?" His eyes drift down over her and even as he does it he ducks like he expects something to be tossed at him.
And he's right. The sweater goes zipping over his head, just barely missing him when he ducks. "Heck on you," Rhodya says accusingly. Whatever that means. She leans back against the nearest shelf with her arms crossed - Hattie may have gone back to work, but she's clearly checked out for the day - and shakes her head at him. "You keep your eyes up where they belong, else maybe I will start makin' things up about you. Speakin' of shoes, though," she points at the ones he's wearing, "I've near got your order finished. A day or two more and you'll have 'em, along with your hat back, I think."
"Knew it," he says with a chuckle as the sweater nearly misses him. Winston looks at her and winks. "Darling, your aim needs work. Should always aim for the center of mass. The head is too easy to miss." One hand pats his stomach. "A stomach is a good place to aim for. Want to try again?" He bends down to pick up the sweater and holds it out. "And new boots, love? Excellent! I have been eagerly awaiting them. Although I will cry when you return my hat." There's a loud sniffle for that. "Can't blame my eyes for seeking a pretty sight though."
Rhodya snatches the sweater back, but the only thing she throws at him is a smile. "Sure, but hittin' the head is more satisfying." She tucks the sweater under her elbow again, there to wait until he provokes her again. "I'd've had the boots sooner, of course, but you know." She gestures around the store rooms: candidates' chores, what a pain. "Stuff kind of got in the way." Rhodya grins.
Winston's head nods and he lifts one hand to scratch at an oversized ear. "Tell me, Rhodya, my dear. All serious. You think you got a chance out there." He waves his hand around a bit and then adds, "When they hatch I mean. You hoping to impress? Or you just doing it because you were asked and will be just as happy to get back to cobblering when it's over?"
Rhodya blinks. Well, that was a change of subject. She shifts the sweater to a more secure position, hung over her shoulder, and frees up her arms so she can hug herself. "Tell you the truth," she says, "I've got cold feet. Got all excited when T'rev asked me, but now I'm here, it's like." She widens her eyes and gives her head a shake, because the feeling of being a candidate is too weird to put in words. "And seriously? I don't feel like it's gonna happen. Feels too unreal."
"Like you're just dreaming some weird and long complicated thing?" Winston asks her with a sympathetic smile. "Truth be told, Rhodya, I'm scared out of my mind about the whole thing. Not like every kid don't dream of maybe impressing someday, yea? But to actually be out there and take the chance? Kind of...well, makes a person think a lot." He pauses to wink at her. "Even me."
"And here I thought you didn't care for thinking," Rhodya teases him with a quick smile. She shakes her head. "I had that dream when I was a real little kid, but I grew up, and turn after turn, I never had a dragon so much as sniff at me. And now I've moved on to having other dreams in life, /now/ is when they Search me?" She gives a little tsk, as if she'd take all the dragons of the world to task if she could reach them. "I'm scared of havin' a dragon in my head, and I'm scared to give that up - all those other dreams I had. Sure ain't the party I envisioned as a kid," she adds, with a slip of a grin.
Winston's grin is almost a nervous one as he laughs at her words. "I know the feeling. Had plenty of dreams in my time and it's not until I've been here for three turns that one takes an interest." He lowers his voice and says, "Still not sure it was not some cruel joke Phara wanted to play on me though. She thinks I got all kinds of problems after all." Then he shakes his head. "We'll see what happens I suppose. Gonna have to figure something out if I don't impress I suppose. If I do I guess a lot's decided for me."
"Ain't that a kicker," Rhodya says, shaking her head thoughtfully. "One dragon looks at you, BAM." She slaps her palms together. "That's it for life. No going back to the hold for you, no gettin' married for me. Almost feels like bad luck, learnin' so early in life what's not in the cards for ya." She tilts her head, scrutinizing Winston closely. "But imagine you on a bronze. Or a green!" She can't help but squeeze some amusement out of that one, letting out a bark of laughter.
Shaking his head Winston laughs lowly. "I am not sure a green would find me suitable. Ain't so interested in all that entails." But he shrugs his shoulders and says, "Truth be told I'd not mind any dragon finding me. As much as it would be weird to get used to it could be fun. Think about being able to go anywhere. Oh, but I didn't know you wanted to be married." Now his head shakes and he gives her a sympathetic look. "I suppose that would keep that from happening, yes. But riders still get involved in long term relationships. Weyrmating can be just like marriage and you can have kids and all that way. What about you though?" Now he lifts a brow at her and flashes a cocky grin. "What color you fancy?"
Rhodya sticks out her hand, waving the fingers slightly as she admires them. Ringless things that they are. "This close," she tells him, holding up her fingers just a centimeter apart. Then she shoves her left hand into her pocket, so she can forget about it. "Well, I figure if it's anything, it'll be green. My mother rode green, plus I figure if I've got to have someone in my head, I'd be more comfortable with a little lady keepin' me company."
"Ahh. There is that. A lady in my head would not be such a bad thing." Winston mulls this over silently as he looks at her hand. "Well, tell you what? I'll marry you. Right now, Rhodya my love. Let's run down and find a harper and get the honeymoon started." He winks at her and leans forward as he whispers, "Or we can get right on with the honeymoon, darlin'. I know a little corner we can go to right now." He leans back again and lifts his hands to shield his face in case she throws the sweater.
She does, but this time she aims lower - in fact, she aims a little lower than the middle, but since it's a sweater it only fuffs into him and falls down without great impact. "Winston, in some ways, you are too much like him. So don't you push me - and don't play, either." Her right hand clamps down on the elbow of that submerged left, as if she needed to hold it in place and out of sight. "It ain't a playin' business." Beat. "Anyway, you didn't say what color you're thinking of."
Winston bends over and says, "Oh, my dignity! Wounded!" He slides down to the floor and sits there looking stunned. "I don't know if I will survive this." He looks at her hand though hidden away and lifts his eyes to her face. "Not ever teasing. Tell you what we both walk off the sands alone I'll promise to cleave unto you that night." Well, maybe he's joking a little bit. "And I ain't sure. Like I said, be happy with any dragon thought I was suited to it. Wouldn't be lying to say I'd sit mighty fine on a bronze though. Or a brown. Something big, yea? To hold up my ego."
Rhodya grins, shaking a fist at him. "That'll learn ya," she says without remorse. Then laughs. "Winston, if you Impress a big fella, and I get myself a lady green, that's about the only way you're gonna wind up gettin' my pants off. Nothing personal, but we're after different sorts of romance, and they don't suit."
"That'll learn me, eh?" Winston says with a roguish grin. "Learn me to ask you if you're gonna start kissing better what you throw things at?" This time he drops both his hands protectively lower as he laughs. "Ok, ok, I admit that was too much even for me. Forgive me, sweetheart. And romance I can do. Just can't do it long term is all. But I hear you. Besides you went and all befriended me and now I have to listen to what you say. Such a chore woman!"
Rhodya's eyebrows go straight up, but when he's so quick to apologize for crossing the line, he saves himself from retribution. "You watch it," is all she tells him, with a wagging finger. "Anyway, I thought you liked to have women come talk to you. And that you didn't care if there was sex for you at the end of it." She grins broadly at him, her eyebrows still raised, but now expectantly.
"Oh, come on now, darlin'. Wasn't I supposed to say that? Women like a man that's not thinking about the bottom line right?" Winston's got a grin on as he says it and there's no way at all to know for sure if he jokes or not. He does push himself up to his feet and look around. "Suppose we ought to think about getting some dinner?" His grin only grows and he takes a step forward although it puts him nowhere near her. "Unless you're liking to be spending time with me in here all alone?"
"Nah." Rhodya picks the tossed sweater off the ground and flings it over her shoulder again - waste not. "We spend too much time alone and people're bound to get ideas; next thing you know we're on latrine duty like poor Sooz. Besides," she adds, grinning as she falls into step beside him. "I'm hungry."
"Poor Sooz indeed. You hear what that was all about? Something about a love affair?" Winston's got no idea and certainly would prefer to speculate. "Although I hear the weyrling talking to her was a woman. Maybe she stole our poor Sooz's man?" He heads for the exit because his stomach rumbles to prove he's a hungry man.
"Nope, haven't heard," Rhodya replies. "But I plan to get the story out of her next time I see her. Why, I'll likely have it by the time your boots're finished," she muses, as they walk out to the living cavern.
"Well, if you can share I expect you to. Or I won't be sharing my gossip no more!" Winston grins and looks down at his feet a moment. "New boots will be great. Not as great as a new wardrobe I suppose, but a man has to look good however he can. Appreciate it, Rhodya my love." He's quiet in thought before he says, "Green you may think of, but promise you get a boy and you come calling when he misses a flight and you want to work it off." He steps away from her then to be sure she doesn't try to slap him.
He's already too far away to slap, so Rhodya glares at him instead. "That is /not/ going to happen," Rhodya says, "on so many levels." She eyes him for a few moments as they walk, then pulls up a little smirk. "You gonna go lookin' for Hattie if ever your big man comes up shy? Think she'd take you in?"
"Hattie? No, I think I'd rather have her on my mind than anything else," Winston muses like he's not given it too much thought. Even if maybe he has. "Not going to look for someone I like to take me in. Just grab some willing woman. Imagine that won't be an issue. And I continue to be wounded by your desire to avoid my bed, woman!"
"So you /do/ admit you like her," Rhodya says, and even though she doesn't say 'Ah-HA!' you can feel it in her tone. She smirks, smug as you please, but lets that be her definitive word on the issue. "Far as I'm concerned, it ain't me avoiding your bed. It's that you ain't earned the right to be with me; may not be enough man for me." She gives him an unfavorable, appraising look, but she can't help but grin a little while she's doing it.
"See how you wound me?" Winston stumbles as he walks and he doesn't even dignify her remarks about Hattie with an answer. He just looks mournfully at Rhodya. "Suppose earning ain't gonna happen. Think I might sneak in though?" He looks overly hopefully and comically lecherous as he asks this. He even licks his lips and rubs his hands together.
Rhodya slaps his hands down, so he doesn't get far with that covetous hand-rub. "Ain't no sneakin' anywhere. Anyway, we're vergin' right on indecent talk, here, so why don't you think of something else, hmm?" For the lady.
There's a heavy sigh as Winston casts his eyes about like he's seeking a topic. "Awful cold weather we're having, Miss Rhodya. And did you know there's a fabric shortage?" He shakes his head and looks at his boots. "Getting new boots too. There's this adorable cobbler making em for me."
Rhodya rolls her eyes at him, but she laughs. "Well, I can tell your heart ain't in it, but you'll get better. Promise there's things you can talk about that don't involve the bedroom," she says. Then the rush of noise in the living cavern, stuffed to capacity right now as what seems like the whole Weyr descends on it, descends over them, and their conversation (dispirited or not) has to be put on pause while they fight their way through the crowd for food and a place to sit.