The Messy Bedclothes
I'm not a control freak. ~Fiona Apple
OOC Date: March 4, 2010
IC Date: Day 12, month 2, turn 22 of Interval 10.
Who: Gabrion, Warucori, Saliqa, Rinna
Where: Candidate Quarters, HRW
Gabe pops into the candidate quarters to change shirts, only to find that someone has messed up his cot. He scolds everyone within range, to prevent it happening again.
Warucori hunches over the pillow, fluffing it vigoursly and re-arranging the filling. There's a moment of silence as she works, not looking up or glancing around. She's done quickly and the pillow is put back onto the bed and tugged into place with the blankets. A deft sweep and tuck and it looks better, though someone--Trahalor-- may notice that the cot has been mussed with. She tucks the towel back into the basket and stands up to hurry back to Rinna, sitting with her and her laundry. "there....."
Speaking of cots, Saliqa's is immaculate. She's not in it, though; the girl's been up and about for a while, and she only just now strolls in from what has already been a long day. Or perhaps simply a trying one. This all based on the frown mussing her features and the less-than-delicate way she stomps past those first bunks as if to make a point. She pauses before reaching her own bed, hands coming up to flatten some fly-away hairs and a deep breath easing the surface tension away. Following this ritual, she gets her first glimpse of who else is in the quarters.
"You're very smooth, Cori," Rinna says approvingly. "I doubt he'll notice a thing--how often do boys really think about the state of their bedclothes, anyway?" Then Saliqa stomps in, and she immediately turns into a paragon of industry, folding laundry and looking blank. Not innocent, she can't manage that. But blank. "Rough morning?"
Warucori draws herself up, preening just the slightest bit, "thank you Rinna. Here is hoping he doesn't notice until someone asks him what the 'smell' is." the last bit a whispered giggle. As someone comes in, she kicks the basket under her leg and reaches for a towel to help fold. "Oh, hello Saliqa." All too proper and with the nervous jitters. Really pranks should be left to professionals.
Gabrion sails in from outside, dressed in his healer apprentice uniform. There's a big wet spot on the front of his shirt, which, it turns out, is why he's here: he bangs his trunk open, yanks out a neatly folded shirt that matches the one he's wearing, and starts to change. He pauses, though, when his arms are halfway through the holes of the new shirt, and frowns. Then he slowly pulls it on the rest of the way, and paces alongside his bed, frowning deeply. "Who's been sitting on my bed?" he asks, affronted. "It's /rumpled/." By which he means that there's a single crease in the blanket, and his pillow is askew. He reaches down to straighten it, centering it precisely in the bed.
.
"Warucori," Saliqa greets, a touch of nerves amongst the typical smoothness of her 'polite' voice, "And it's... it's Rena, isn't it?" A smile of apology pre-empts her mistake as she walks with a bit more composure towards the two busy gals. She takes time to shoot a dark, narrowed glance at the way she came from, so that, turning back and opening her mouth to respond, she's cut off, instead, by Gabrion's complaint. The curiosity that arises over his predicament serves to clear the rest of the aggression from her own face. "I'm sure it wasn't... meant as an offense?" She attempts, then nodding more world-wise at the two girls, "These sleeping arrangements aren't exactly, well-- they're a bit relaxed."
Warucori smiles, long fingers making short work of the folding. It's an easy task for her, little piles all in their place in orderly little stacks. "It's not as though they are going to kick anyone out for a mussed cot." She says kindly to Gabrion. "Just look at some of -those- cots." And she's meaning the really rumpled ones, the eye-sores. Her shoulders relax as she works, the movement soothing her jumbled nerves.
"The point is, /I/ don't want /my/ bed to be mussed," Gabe says firmly. "They can do whatever they want with their beds." He yanks at his blankets, smoothing them out, and re-straightens the pillow again, then steps back, frowning, to examine the results. There's a sock on the floor half under his bed. He plucks it up, frowns at it, and puts it on the bed next to his, where Silarra sleeps.
Rinna shrugs, accepting Saliqa's slightly mangled greeting. "Rinna. Close enough. It beats 'hey you'." Fold, fold, fold the laundry, la la la. She doesn't even look at Gabrion's cot, since it's not the cot she's currently concerned with. "Some of the younger ones were probably roughhousing this morning. You know how they are." Kids these days. "Is that Silarra's sock? I've probably got the match to it somewhere in this heap."
Saliqa aims her way to stand next to the girls but, eyeing the nearest inviting cot that also isn't hers, then glancing at Gabrion, she pointedly remains standing. "Rinna, my apologies," she adds absently with her eyes over elsewhere. "Roughhousing," she repeats with a cluck of her tongue, "They're not /that/ young. And that kind of thing belongs outside."
Warucori smooths down a fold on a silkey bit of nighty before she puts it to the side, "well, I don't want to be kept up late with snores and dice-games in the dark so there are struggles for all of us." She smiles at Rinna warmly and as Saliqa gives her opinion she gives a firm nod of her head, "well...I agree with you, but everyone is on pins and needles. And boys -are- less mature than ladies."
"It's not mine," Gabe says with a shrug, "and her cot is closest. So." Now that he's changed, he carefully folds his soiled tunic - the one he took off - and puts it on top of his trunk. "Okay, I have to go back to work. Nobody muss up my bed, okay?" he requests, and smiles sweetly at the girls - pretty please? Then he waves, and trots off, back out to the corridor.
Rinna calls after the departing Gabrion, "Just for that, I'm going to refold your blanket the wrong way!" Let him tremble at the thought. "I suppose that level of cleanliness is better than roughhousing, but not by much. Maybe Gabe and Trahalor will kill each other over some speck of dirt, and that way both extremes will be negated." Not that she'd *really* wish that. Only some days.
"They are, aren't they?" Saliqa agrees with Warucori companionably, a streak of bemusement making it seem like the angry she stomped in with was an illusion. "If everyone's so needle-y, they should funnel that into chores and maybe this place would stay reasonable." Gabrion's exit is smiled for, a kind of understanding nod following him out, though it has a touch of 'duh' to it. Who would /deliberately mess up someone's cot/? Sheesh, people.
OOC Date: March 4, 2010
IC Date: Day 12, month 2, turn 22 of Interval 10.
Who: Gabrion, Warucori, Saliqa, Rinna
Where: Candidate Quarters, HRW
Gabe pops into the candidate quarters to change shirts, only to find that someone has messed up his cot. He scolds everyone within range, to prevent it happening again.
Warucori hunches over the pillow, fluffing it vigoursly and re-arranging the filling. There's a moment of silence as she works, not looking up or glancing around. She's done quickly and the pillow is put back onto the bed and tugged into place with the blankets. A deft sweep and tuck and it looks better, though someone--Trahalor-- may notice that the cot has been mussed with. She tucks the towel back into the basket and stands up to hurry back to Rinna, sitting with her and her laundry. "there....."
Speaking of cots, Saliqa's is immaculate. She's not in it, though; the girl's been up and about for a while, and she only just now strolls in from what has already been a long day. Or perhaps simply a trying one. This all based on the frown mussing her features and the less-than-delicate way she stomps past those first bunks as if to make a point. She pauses before reaching her own bed, hands coming up to flatten some fly-away hairs and a deep breath easing the surface tension away. Following this ritual, she gets her first glimpse of who else is in the quarters.
"You're very smooth, Cori," Rinna says approvingly. "I doubt he'll notice a thing--how often do boys really think about the state of their bedclothes, anyway?" Then Saliqa stomps in, and she immediately turns into a paragon of industry, folding laundry and looking blank. Not innocent, she can't manage that. But blank. "Rough morning?"
Warucori draws herself up, preening just the slightest bit, "thank you Rinna. Here is hoping he doesn't notice until someone asks him what the 'smell' is." the last bit a whispered giggle. As someone comes in, she kicks the basket under her leg and reaches for a towel to help fold. "Oh, hello Saliqa." All too proper and with the nervous jitters. Really pranks should be left to professionals.
Gabrion sails in from outside, dressed in his healer apprentice uniform. There's a big wet spot on the front of his shirt, which, it turns out, is why he's here: he bangs his trunk open, yanks out a neatly folded shirt that matches the one he's wearing, and starts to change. He pauses, though, when his arms are halfway through the holes of the new shirt, and frowns. Then he slowly pulls it on the rest of the way, and paces alongside his bed, frowning deeply. "Who's been sitting on my bed?" he asks, affronted. "It's /rumpled/." By which he means that there's a single crease in the blanket, and his pillow is askew. He reaches down to straighten it, centering it precisely in the bed.
.
"Warucori," Saliqa greets, a touch of nerves amongst the typical smoothness of her 'polite' voice, "And it's... it's Rena, isn't it?" A smile of apology pre-empts her mistake as she walks with a bit more composure towards the two busy gals. She takes time to shoot a dark, narrowed glance at the way she came from, so that, turning back and opening her mouth to respond, she's cut off, instead, by Gabrion's complaint. The curiosity that arises over his predicament serves to clear the rest of the aggression from her own face. "I'm sure it wasn't... meant as an offense?" She attempts, then nodding more world-wise at the two girls, "These sleeping arrangements aren't exactly, well-- they're a bit relaxed."
Warucori smiles, long fingers making short work of the folding. It's an easy task for her, little piles all in their place in orderly little stacks. "It's not as though they are going to kick anyone out for a mussed cot." She says kindly to Gabrion. "Just look at some of -those- cots." And she's meaning the really rumpled ones, the eye-sores. Her shoulders relax as she works, the movement soothing her jumbled nerves.
"The point is, /I/ don't want /my/ bed to be mussed," Gabe says firmly. "They can do whatever they want with their beds." He yanks at his blankets, smoothing them out, and re-straightens the pillow again, then steps back, frowning, to examine the results. There's a sock on the floor half under his bed. He plucks it up, frowns at it, and puts it on the bed next to his, where Silarra sleeps.
Rinna shrugs, accepting Saliqa's slightly mangled greeting. "Rinna. Close enough. It beats 'hey you'." Fold, fold, fold the laundry, la la la. She doesn't even look at Gabrion's cot, since it's not the cot she's currently concerned with. "Some of the younger ones were probably roughhousing this morning. You know how they are." Kids these days. "Is that Silarra's sock? I've probably got the match to it somewhere in this heap."
Saliqa aims her way to stand next to the girls but, eyeing the nearest inviting cot that also isn't hers, then glancing at Gabrion, she pointedly remains standing. "Rinna, my apologies," she adds absently with her eyes over elsewhere. "Roughhousing," she repeats with a cluck of her tongue, "They're not /that/ young. And that kind of thing belongs outside."
Warucori smooths down a fold on a silkey bit of nighty before she puts it to the side, "well, I don't want to be kept up late with snores and dice-games in the dark so there are struggles for all of us." She smiles at Rinna warmly and as Saliqa gives her opinion she gives a firm nod of her head, "well...I agree with you, but everyone is on pins and needles. And boys -are- less mature than ladies."
"It's not mine," Gabe says with a shrug, "and her cot is closest. So." Now that he's changed, he carefully folds his soiled tunic - the one he took off - and puts it on top of his trunk. "Okay, I have to go back to work. Nobody muss up my bed, okay?" he requests, and smiles sweetly at the girls - pretty please? Then he waves, and trots off, back out to the corridor.
Rinna calls after the departing Gabrion, "Just for that, I'm going to refold your blanket the wrong way!" Let him tremble at the thought. "I suppose that level of cleanliness is better than roughhousing, but not by much. Maybe Gabe and Trahalor will kill each other over some speck of dirt, and that way both extremes will be negated." Not that she'd *really* wish that. Only some days.
"They are, aren't they?" Saliqa agrees with Warucori companionably, a streak of bemusement making it seem like the angry she stomped in with was an illusion. "If everyone's so needle-y, they should funnel that into chores and maybe this place would stay reasonable." Gabrion's exit is smiled for, a kind of understanding nod following him out, though it has a touch of 'duh' to it. Who would /deliberately mess up someone's cot/? Sheesh, people.