Log: Hair Cuts!
Who: A'riste, Berit, D'kai, Paige, X'den, P'draig, unnamed assistant
When: Just after breakfast, 3/3/17
Where: Weyrling Barracks, Fort Weyr
What: Many of the weyrlings get their hair cut.
A day or two after the Hatching, after morning exercises and breakfast are over, P'draig's got a pair of stools out perched atop sheets spread on the ground and he and one of the assistants have a couple of sets of shears set on the table at the head of the Barracks. As Weyrlings return frrom the morning meal, the Weyrlingmaster hails: "GOod morning again! Right this way, time to get that hair down to a manageable length!" (And from there, Deke and Berit 'volunteered' to go first and are on the chopping block.)
"Nope," P'draig says with a shake of his head. "It's just one of those necessary things and I /do/ try to do a good job," he notes further and waits until D'kai and Berit have both settled onto the stools. "I recommend holding still," he says gently and smiles at both. "Berit if you want, we can braid it and put it in a tail for you and you can keep it when it's cut off." The assistant is already moving behind Deke, briskly combing hair upward and then snipping carefully. Curls start to fall to the surface of the sheet on the floor. "A song, A'riste?" Paddy grins over at the former harper Weyrling. "Your creativity just doesn't stop."
"Yeah, yeah, sure, that's what they all say," D'kai dolefully watches the tumbling curls, and flicks at his apron as some land by his hand so that they gently drift on down to the floor. But, as requested, he holds still - not like Deke's never had a haircut before - even tipping forward his head juuust a bit as he feels the snick-snack of the shears go 'round and lower. "It wouldn't be so bad if it was summer, at least then it'd be keeping us cool. But my hair was my insulation," he grouses, but not too much. "I guess at least mine'll grow back, eventually, to how I had it." There you go! Optimism!
"A song? Why would you need to make a song for me?" Valiant, she is! But as soon as the words are out of her mouth, she starts sniffling. They start small and get louder, accompanied by little hiccups, and finally, surprise of all surprises, tears start to slide down her cheeks. She squeezes her eyes shut to try and stop the moisture from accumulating, and that only speeds the process up. "I.." hiccup "..am.." hiccup "sorry, bu-.." sniffle "-but, I just.."All further words are unneeded as she lets loose a keening cry, her hands covering her eyes as she gives into her weeping. Bravery, be damned.
A'riste tilts his head at P'draig. "Why wouldn't I? Valioth hasn't silenced the music in my head or the words in my heart... Oh dear." And he kneels near Berit, and reaches for one of her hands. "Because you're brave," he assures her warmly, and when he finally smiles it's encouraging. "And a Lady deserves to be sung about, right? We'll call it 'The Ballad of Berit's Hair'. Women all across Pern will look up to you. Men will swoon at your strength. You'll be a legend, I swear."
Paige doesn't exactly greet the news of having to get a haircut with enthusiasm; in fact, her expression falters as she moves to settle cross-legged on her cot, casting a pleading look at satiated, oiled Tiasheth. If she draws reassurance from the sleeping dragonet, it's probably by her physical presence alone, but it seems enough for her to bolster herself a little. Uncertainty gradually gives way to resignation -- well, that's until Berit starts to cry. Scooting off of her cot to edge over to the other weyrling, she offers her a small, if plain handkerchief. "Aw, Berit, it - won' really be tha' bad, right?" she hedges sympathetically. "Yer hair'll grow back in time and - and ya'll find a new way t'look jus' as purty with a shorter cut." She does give A'riste a curious look, though; 'The Ballad of Berit's Hair?'
"That's what hats are for," the assistant tells D'kai, briskly clipping away. P'draig's turning to answer Berit: "Because he --" and then the flood of tears starts and Paddy moves to slip an arm around Berit's shoulders. A'riste's flood of words earns a slight lift of eyebrows, but to his credit maybe, the Weyrlingmaster doesn't roll his eyes ceilingward. "It'll be okay Berit. This way it won't get caught in something and rip out unprettily. It'll look a lot nicer if I cut it on purpose," he states reassuringly and bends to whisper something down low for her benefit only after a brief, warm smile for Paige's hanky offering.
The sniffles alert him first, and, without moving his head, D'kai shifts his gaze as far over towards Berit as he can. "Awh, Ber, don't cry, would you? You'll make me tear up, too." But his words aren't intended to be gibe, and he reaches over with her other hand as well as he can. "Hey, it's for Zibeth, yeah? Your pretty little gold. You can't get your hair caught up while tending to her, or you might hurt yourself - or her." Right? And, as Paige chimes in, the lad tosses his head enthusiastically, forgetting for the moment where he was and choking out a startled apology amidst his attempted reassurances. "Yeah! - sorry, hope I didn't throw you off there - it'd be great, Berit, really! We wouldn't lie to you, would we? And we'll all look silly with silly hair, together at least."
X'den has rolled out of his couch later than the rest. LIkely trouble in that, but there's a slightly troubled expression on his face that only gets deeper as he figures out that it's hair cutting time. HIs eyes shift around and then settle on A'riste and then on Berit and there's a bit of awful realization on his features before he shakes his head and turns away, going to the back of the line to wait for a cut.
Tear-filled green eyes lift, startled and confused as her hand is seized and a handkerchief is held out towards her. That is what friends are for, right, to cheer you up when you feel down? Berit tries for a smile, but ends up with a trembling pout. "I.. I am going to look like the most terrible, ugliest creature on Pern!" She seems sure of that too, as she delicately dabs at her eyes with the soft cloth; at least she is no longer wailing. "No women would want to emulate me. They would laugh at me and call me Berit the Bald. Or Berit Bad Hair Day." Tears spill over her rosy cheeks still, unheeded and unchecked, while the handkerchief is twisted nervously in her hand. She raises her gaze to the Weyrlingmaster, sniffling as she listens, but in the end she looks as glum as before. "That is what you say *now*. When all my hair is gone, everyone is going to laugh," she murmurs glumly, dropping her eyes to her lap, but they skip back up to Deke as he seizes her free hand, handkerchief and all. "Zibeth agrees with me, though. I think she will be upset when it is cut. She loves it so."
A'riste shakes his head. "Moreta, it's said, had short hair. I read it in some of the moldering old archives I was forced to categorize. 'Ballads, M'. And look how amazing she was. You will be, too. Zibeth would never choose somebody so insignificant that she wouldn't be someone to be emulated, right? She went right for you, Berit, in front of everyone. That's what'll be remembered."
X'den's arms cross over his chest as he listens to Berit and her objection to the hair cutting. His hand sweeps through his own longish hair and he leans over to see if the weyrlingmaster is swayed at all by the waterworks, calculating his reaction. Afterall he has a vested interest in not looking like a bald fool too. "Who knows..." he drawls, "maybe it will be all the rage and others will be sheering off their hair just to be like.....us."
"Aw, Berit, people can' be all /tha'/ bad 'bout it, can they?" Paige protests gently. "'Sides, we all gotta do it." There's an emphatic nod for Deke's point; he's got something, there. "Yeah, what Deke said. We'll all look the same, t'gether." Glancing anxiously back toward Tia, who'd likely just offer the same reassurances if she were awake, the girl renews her fervent nods when A'riste's done speaking. "And hats, " she echoes the assistant, pouncing upon that idea. "Hats, Berit. We can - find purty hats t'wear with our new cuts and they'll still look real good."
As the reassurances roll in, P'draig smiles again at the other Weyrlings and moves around behind Berit. Nimble fingers work through hair, braiding it up. Over on the other stool, the assistant's about done, leaving D'kai with an even, shorter crop of curls. "All set," is noted to Mikhuth's and then a clearing of the assistant's throat. "Next!" Paddy meanwhile, gives Berit's shoulder a little pat. "Ready?" And the shears hover at the base of her skull to cut the braid off.
"I'll go next and see, 'twon't be so bad, " Paige bravely offers all of a sudden, taking the few steps over to where Deke's finishing up. "And we'll both be losin' dark hair and - and that'll make it more okay, won' it?" Because having a fellow girl going through the same tortu -- er, situation as you makes life easier.
All done? D'kai releases Berit's hand to pat his new 'do, grimacing a bit at the feel of the shortened, sort-of-bristly hair. He shrugs and rises from the chair, with a nod of thanks to the assistant, though he crouches nearby. Don't want to miss out on the action! Tipping his head to and fro - it's light! - he frowns a bit. "C'mon, Berit, I'm sure you won't look any sillier than-" (assumed) "I do. Near impossible, really. And if you think about it, you're the second to go. We're pretty much all emulating you already." And then that odd hazing of his eyes, and Deke chuckles: "Here, if it helps, Micky says he thinks you're a," and here's an affected, thick burring accent, "Real classy gal f'r doin' it f'r yer dragon, yeah."
Sniffles continue, but the tears are beginning to dry up for the most part. With her usual apt attention, Berit listens to A'riste's words and tilts her head a little; it is not half as bad if another weyrwoman had to endure the same unsightly appearance. "Perhaps you are right.." she says quietly, not yet committing to the idea, but at least she is giving it some thought. Her gaze roams the crowd, looking for the face to go with that voice, and there she finds X'den amongst the other candidates. "Do you think? I cannot see any Lady Holder trying to imitate my short hair." As she says it, she gives another loud sniffle and a shuddering breath, releasing her woes in a deep exhale. But what is said next catches her reluctant attention, grabbing hold and giving that bright light back to her eyes. "Hats.. ? Hats. Yes, I love hats. Did you know hats and gloves are so fashionable right now. I heard that Lady Benden bought some." A smile traces her lips, a bit of her old enthusiasm returning through the sorrow, and only too soon it disappears as P'draig questions her readiness. Swallow. Breathe. "Yes," she says weakly, squeezing her eyes shut, but they pop open as Paige offers to go next. There is an appreciative smile for her friend, and her eyes close again, crinkling up as she puts all of her anxiety into her expression.
A'riste eyes Deke. "You look fine. Rakish and all that. Does he really speak like that? I've never heard of that before. Not that I've heard much about that sort of thing. But I'd think at least one song..." And he nods approvingly at Berit, and then steps away- to the side, but in the front, as if he might've decided that he'd step up when the next chair is free.
Snick. The heavy braid falls into P'draig's hand and he lays it aside, then works on tidying up the rough cut, working the ends so they fall in graduated layers almost, walking around the front to check length and gives Berit a smile and a wink. "Lovely," he tells her and then moves around to pull the sheet away. "Next!" Over on Paige's stool, the assistant is giving like treatment to the other girl, leaving a curly crown, perhaps in his wake. The sheets on the ground are getting quite the carpet of hair by now, mixed colors. "A'riste?" Paddy queries, looking towards the blond.
X'den's lean shoulders roll and he cocks his hip slightly, "well, who cares about Lady Holder's now. I mean.." a quick look at the weyrlingmaster as he corrects, "not that I'm insulting them sir." And he continues, "We're dragonmen...er....folk now Berit." He shrugs up his shoulders a bit, not looking at all pleased about it any more than Berit, just with less tears. "I wonder if the traders would have fine hats. That really is a good idea."
As the job is done, a brave smile is given to those around her, her face lightened except for a faint trace of her lingering anxiety. One hand lifts to comb through the short chestnut tresses, pausing unwillingly at the end of the thick mass. There is a choked sob just before Berit jumps from the stool and pushes through the other weyrlings, roughly (for one so petite) shouldering her way past everyone. She leaves the cavern with her sobs echoing behind her, a remnant of her distress.
Paige watches her wavy bits of hair fall to the floor around her; not exactly long to begin with, it only takes about three inches of cutting or so before her hair sits on the nape of her neck, leaving the girl to reach up and run a hand delicately through the fluffy crop. "Short, " she manages, hopping off of her stool in time to turn and watch Berit make the same sort of movement. Whatever she's about to say is cut off by Berit's sobs; with an anxious glance behind her, she takes off after the other brunette, expression worried.
Rakish? That's a look he can hold with! D'kai again runs a hand through his hair, or lack thereof, this time slightly mollified. "He-" a look, over his shoulder at the bronze, who's got one eye half-opened, fixed on the proceedings. "He does. I don't mind it, so much." But then it's A'riste's turn up on the chopping block, and as Berit steps down, Deke's drawn away from his friend to nod up at her. "It is lovely, Berit. Really." But what does he know? He's just a boy. And even before he can offer another assurance, Berit's sobbing her way from the cavern, and her flight is watched with a bit of a bemused frown. Quickly enough she's out of sight and out of mind, and D'kai's turning back to the current casualties and offering, "Anyone else want me to hold their hand? Aer? No?"
A'riste watches Berit flee, and then shakes his head slightly. He steps up, turns on his heel, and drops into the seat, chin high. "Do it. I won't be bald and I'll still look good." Unlike Deke's hair, his is very straight, all of it falling to one meticulously even length. He waves Deke off imperiously. "Hold X'den's! He's got more hair to miss."
P'draig sets the shears down and is surprised by Berit's sudden fleeing. "Berit --" he starts out, then nods as Paige takes off after. Best to leave this to the girls. He pulls a string out of his pocket and binds up the other end of Berit's braid, quietly tucks it aside for safekeeping then turns back to business. "Nope, no baldness," he promises A'riste and looks over at the assistant who has finished swiping off the stool and is beckoning with a meaningful look towards X'den. Again, Paddy is efficient and careful with the shears, changing one even layer to a shorter crop on the sides so it doesn't swing into A'riste's face. Pale locks join dark on the floor. He grins over at D'kai while cutting for the offer of hand-holding.
X'den sighs quietly and shakes his head as he watches Berit, knowing the value of a woman's hair from a male standpoint at a very conservitive hold. THere's that stoney-faced resolve about his own hair, eyes all aflash with resentment, even if he knows why it has to be done. At the offer to hold his hand he snorts, "I don't need my hand held, but I will need company picking out a hat or two. I was going to ask Berit but ... I think she needs a moment." He scoots forward in line, raking fingers through his forelock with an even darker look towards the shears and a low mutter of oaths.
"Fine. I'll hold my own, then," D'kai mutters mock-sullenly, and so he does, clasping one hand in the other and gently petting his fingers. "There, there, Deke. Never fear. Your hair will grow back. Hey, if you're all going hat shopping, can I tag with? Winter's much to cold to go around bear-headed." Not that he's shaved clean, but with the Fort days like they were...
A'riste glances down, caught by the contrast of their shorn hair at his feet, before he looks back up. His expression - blandly smug - never changes, and when P'draig's done, he rises and makes room for someone else. His hair's a close-cropped near-white cap around his head, and he reaches up to brush lingering strands away. His fine-boned features seem sharper now, his cheekbones especially, and his eyes brilliant blue without the shadow of long bangs.
"I'm sure the Sebring'll have a lovely assortment of hats to help you out with," P'draig quips a little and shakes his head, clearing the shears of lingering hairs as he tackles the next Weyrling, a fellow with quite the head of hair who takes longer than the others so far. X'den gets similar efficient treatment to A'riste from the assistant, hair cut short at the nape, any front hair trimmed back so it doesn't get in the eyes, but some length left at the sides so it's not a 'buzz cut' just neat and tidy.
X'den gives A'riste a thoughtful look and there's a small grin at the other weyrling before he drops his gaze, giving himself a shake. THen he throws himself into the chair. Ok, not that dramatic but there's a definately rebelion in his movements as he sits down. "You're certainly welcome to come with me D'kai." THere's a small grumble as the white-frontlock of his hair tumbles down to join the rest, leaving his head all sleek and jet-black. THere's certainly something missing about him without it, his gaze more direct without the sheild of hair to guard him. THere's more muttering as he makes to get up. "When do we get to grow it back?"
When: Just after breakfast, 3/3/17
Where: Weyrling Barracks, Fort Weyr
What: Many of the weyrlings get their hair cut.
A day or two after the Hatching, after morning exercises and breakfast are over, P'draig's got a pair of stools out perched atop sheets spread on the ground and he and one of the assistants have a couple of sets of shears set on the table at the head of the Barracks. As Weyrlings return frrom the morning meal, the Weyrlingmaster hails: "GOod morning again! Right this way, time to get that hair down to a manageable length!" (And from there, Deke and Berit 'volunteered' to go first and are on the chopping block.)
"Nope," P'draig says with a shake of his head. "It's just one of those necessary things and I /do/ try to do a good job," he notes further and waits until D'kai and Berit have both settled onto the stools. "I recommend holding still," he says gently and smiles at both. "Berit if you want, we can braid it and put it in a tail for you and you can keep it when it's cut off." The assistant is already moving behind Deke, briskly combing hair upward and then snipping carefully. Curls start to fall to the surface of the sheet on the floor. "A song, A'riste?" Paddy grins over at the former harper Weyrling. "Your creativity just doesn't stop."
"Yeah, yeah, sure, that's what they all say," D'kai dolefully watches the tumbling curls, and flicks at his apron as some land by his hand so that they gently drift on down to the floor. But, as requested, he holds still - not like Deke's never had a haircut before - even tipping forward his head juuust a bit as he feels the snick-snack of the shears go 'round and lower. "It wouldn't be so bad if it was summer, at least then it'd be keeping us cool. But my hair was my insulation," he grouses, but not too much. "I guess at least mine'll grow back, eventually, to how I had it." There you go! Optimism!
"A song? Why would you need to make a song for me?" Valiant, she is! But as soon as the words are out of her mouth, she starts sniffling. They start small and get louder, accompanied by little hiccups, and finally, surprise of all surprises, tears start to slide down her cheeks. She squeezes her eyes shut to try and stop the moisture from accumulating, and that only speeds the process up. "I.." hiccup "..am.." hiccup "sorry, bu-.." sniffle "-but, I just.."All further words are unneeded as she lets loose a keening cry, her hands covering her eyes as she gives into her weeping. Bravery, be damned.
A'riste tilts his head at P'draig. "Why wouldn't I? Valioth hasn't silenced the music in my head or the words in my heart... Oh dear." And he kneels near Berit, and reaches for one of her hands. "Because you're brave," he assures her warmly, and when he finally smiles it's encouraging. "And a Lady deserves to be sung about, right? We'll call it 'The Ballad of Berit's Hair'. Women all across Pern will look up to you. Men will swoon at your strength. You'll be a legend, I swear."
Paige doesn't exactly greet the news of having to get a haircut with enthusiasm; in fact, her expression falters as she moves to settle cross-legged on her cot, casting a pleading look at satiated, oiled Tiasheth. If she draws reassurance from the sleeping dragonet, it's probably by her physical presence alone, but it seems enough for her to bolster herself a little. Uncertainty gradually gives way to resignation -- well, that's until Berit starts to cry. Scooting off of her cot to edge over to the other weyrling, she offers her a small, if plain handkerchief. "Aw, Berit, it - won' really be tha' bad, right?" she hedges sympathetically. "Yer hair'll grow back in time and - and ya'll find a new way t'look jus' as purty with a shorter cut." She does give A'riste a curious look, though; 'The Ballad of Berit's Hair?'
"That's what hats are for," the assistant tells D'kai, briskly clipping away. P'draig's turning to answer Berit: "Because he --" and then the flood of tears starts and Paddy moves to slip an arm around Berit's shoulders. A'riste's flood of words earns a slight lift of eyebrows, but to his credit maybe, the Weyrlingmaster doesn't roll his eyes ceilingward. "It'll be okay Berit. This way it won't get caught in something and rip out unprettily. It'll look a lot nicer if I cut it on purpose," he states reassuringly and bends to whisper something down low for her benefit only after a brief, warm smile for Paige's hanky offering.
The sniffles alert him first, and, without moving his head, D'kai shifts his gaze as far over towards Berit as he can. "Awh, Ber, don't cry, would you? You'll make me tear up, too." But his words aren't intended to be gibe, and he reaches over with her other hand as well as he can. "Hey, it's for Zibeth, yeah? Your pretty little gold. You can't get your hair caught up while tending to her, or you might hurt yourself - or her." Right? And, as Paige chimes in, the lad tosses his head enthusiastically, forgetting for the moment where he was and choking out a startled apology amidst his attempted reassurances. "Yeah! - sorry, hope I didn't throw you off there - it'd be great, Berit, really! We wouldn't lie to you, would we? And we'll all look silly with silly hair, together at least."
X'den has rolled out of his couch later than the rest. LIkely trouble in that, but there's a slightly troubled expression on his face that only gets deeper as he figures out that it's hair cutting time. HIs eyes shift around and then settle on A'riste and then on Berit and there's a bit of awful realization on his features before he shakes his head and turns away, going to the back of the line to wait for a cut.
Tear-filled green eyes lift, startled and confused as her hand is seized and a handkerchief is held out towards her. That is what friends are for, right, to cheer you up when you feel down? Berit tries for a smile, but ends up with a trembling pout. "I.. I am going to look like the most terrible, ugliest creature on Pern!" She seems sure of that too, as she delicately dabs at her eyes with the soft cloth; at least she is no longer wailing. "No women would want to emulate me. They would laugh at me and call me Berit the Bald. Or Berit Bad Hair Day." Tears spill over her rosy cheeks still, unheeded and unchecked, while the handkerchief is twisted nervously in her hand. She raises her gaze to the Weyrlingmaster, sniffling as she listens, but in the end she looks as glum as before. "That is what you say *now*. When all my hair is gone, everyone is going to laugh," she murmurs glumly, dropping her eyes to her lap, but they skip back up to Deke as he seizes her free hand, handkerchief and all. "Zibeth agrees with me, though. I think she will be upset when it is cut. She loves it so."
A'riste shakes his head. "Moreta, it's said, had short hair. I read it in some of the moldering old archives I was forced to categorize. 'Ballads, M'. And look how amazing she was. You will be, too. Zibeth would never choose somebody so insignificant that she wouldn't be someone to be emulated, right? She went right for you, Berit, in front of everyone. That's what'll be remembered."
X'den's arms cross over his chest as he listens to Berit and her objection to the hair cutting. His hand sweeps through his own longish hair and he leans over to see if the weyrlingmaster is swayed at all by the waterworks, calculating his reaction. Afterall he has a vested interest in not looking like a bald fool too. "Who knows..." he drawls, "maybe it will be all the rage and others will be sheering off their hair just to be like.....us."
"Aw, Berit, people can' be all /tha'/ bad 'bout it, can they?" Paige protests gently. "'Sides, we all gotta do it." There's an emphatic nod for Deke's point; he's got something, there. "Yeah, what Deke said. We'll all look the same, t'gether." Glancing anxiously back toward Tia, who'd likely just offer the same reassurances if she were awake, the girl renews her fervent nods when A'riste's done speaking. "And hats, " she echoes the assistant, pouncing upon that idea. "Hats, Berit. We can - find purty hats t'wear with our new cuts and they'll still look real good."
As the reassurances roll in, P'draig smiles again at the other Weyrlings and moves around behind Berit. Nimble fingers work through hair, braiding it up. Over on the other stool, the assistant's about done, leaving D'kai with an even, shorter crop of curls. "All set," is noted to Mikhuth's and then a clearing of the assistant's throat. "Next!" Paddy meanwhile, gives Berit's shoulder a little pat. "Ready?" And the shears hover at the base of her skull to cut the braid off.
"I'll go next and see, 'twon't be so bad, " Paige bravely offers all of a sudden, taking the few steps over to where Deke's finishing up. "And we'll both be losin' dark hair and - and that'll make it more okay, won' it?" Because having a fellow girl going through the same tortu -- er, situation as you makes life easier.
All done? D'kai releases Berit's hand to pat his new 'do, grimacing a bit at the feel of the shortened, sort-of-bristly hair. He shrugs and rises from the chair, with a nod of thanks to the assistant, though he crouches nearby. Don't want to miss out on the action! Tipping his head to and fro - it's light! - he frowns a bit. "C'mon, Berit, I'm sure you won't look any sillier than-" (assumed) "I do. Near impossible, really. And if you think about it, you're the second to go. We're pretty much all emulating you already." And then that odd hazing of his eyes, and Deke chuckles: "Here, if it helps, Micky says he thinks you're a," and here's an affected, thick burring accent, "Real classy gal f'r doin' it f'r yer dragon, yeah."
Sniffles continue, but the tears are beginning to dry up for the most part. With her usual apt attention, Berit listens to A'riste's words and tilts her head a little; it is not half as bad if another weyrwoman had to endure the same unsightly appearance. "Perhaps you are right.." she says quietly, not yet committing to the idea, but at least she is giving it some thought. Her gaze roams the crowd, looking for the face to go with that voice, and there she finds X'den amongst the other candidates. "Do you think? I cannot see any Lady Holder trying to imitate my short hair." As she says it, she gives another loud sniffle and a shuddering breath, releasing her woes in a deep exhale. But what is said next catches her reluctant attention, grabbing hold and giving that bright light back to her eyes. "Hats.. ? Hats. Yes, I love hats. Did you know hats and gloves are so fashionable right now. I heard that Lady Benden bought some." A smile traces her lips, a bit of her old enthusiasm returning through the sorrow, and only too soon it disappears as P'draig questions her readiness. Swallow. Breathe. "Yes," she says weakly, squeezing her eyes shut, but they pop open as Paige offers to go next. There is an appreciative smile for her friend, and her eyes close again, crinkling up as she puts all of her anxiety into her expression.
A'riste eyes Deke. "You look fine. Rakish and all that. Does he really speak like that? I've never heard of that before. Not that I've heard much about that sort of thing. But I'd think at least one song..." And he nods approvingly at Berit, and then steps away- to the side, but in the front, as if he might've decided that he'd step up when the next chair is free.
Snick. The heavy braid falls into P'draig's hand and he lays it aside, then works on tidying up the rough cut, working the ends so they fall in graduated layers almost, walking around the front to check length and gives Berit a smile and a wink. "Lovely," he tells her and then moves around to pull the sheet away. "Next!" Over on Paige's stool, the assistant is giving like treatment to the other girl, leaving a curly crown, perhaps in his wake. The sheets on the ground are getting quite the carpet of hair by now, mixed colors. "A'riste?" Paddy queries, looking towards the blond.
X'den's lean shoulders roll and he cocks his hip slightly, "well, who cares about Lady Holder's now. I mean.." a quick look at the weyrlingmaster as he corrects, "not that I'm insulting them sir." And he continues, "We're dragonmen...er....folk now Berit." He shrugs up his shoulders a bit, not looking at all pleased about it any more than Berit, just with less tears. "I wonder if the traders would have fine hats. That really is a good idea."
As the job is done, a brave smile is given to those around her, her face lightened except for a faint trace of her lingering anxiety. One hand lifts to comb through the short chestnut tresses, pausing unwillingly at the end of the thick mass. There is a choked sob just before Berit jumps from the stool and pushes through the other weyrlings, roughly (for one so petite) shouldering her way past everyone. She leaves the cavern with her sobs echoing behind her, a remnant of her distress.
Paige watches her wavy bits of hair fall to the floor around her; not exactly long to begin with, it only takes about three inches of cutting or so before her hair sits on the nape of her neck, leaving the girl to reach up and run a hand delicately through the fluffy crop. "Short, " she manages, hopping off of her stool in time to turn and watch Berit make the same sort of movement. Whatever she's about to say is cut off by Berit's sobs; with an anxious glance behind her, she takes off after the other brunette, expression worried.
Rakish? That's a look he can hold with! D'kai again runs a hand through his hair, or lack thereof, this time slightly mollified. "He-" a look, over his shoulder at the bronze, who's got one eye half-opened, fixed on the proceedings. "He does. I don't mind it, so much." But then it's A'riste's turn up on the chopping block, and as Berit steps down, Deke's drawn away from his friend to nod up at her. "It is lovely, Berit. Really." But what does he know? He's just a boy. And even before he can offer another assurance, Berit's sobbing her way from the cavern, and her flight is watched with a bit of a bemused frown. Quickly enough she's out of sight and out of mind, and D'kai's turning back to the current casualties and offering, "Anyone else want me to hold their hand? Aer? No?"
A'riste watches Berit flee, and then shakes his head slightly. He steps up, turns on his heel, and drops into the seat, chin high. "Do it. I won't be bald and I'll still look good." Unlike Deke's hair, his is very straight, all of it falling to one meticulously even length. He waves Deke off imperiously. "Hold X'den's! He's got more hair to miss."
P'draig sets the shears down and is surprised by Berit's sudden fleeing. "Berit --" he starts out, then nods as Paige takes off after. Best to leave this to the girls. He pulls a string out of his pocket and binds up the other end of Berit's braid, quietly tucks it aside for safekeeping then turns back to business. "Nope, no baldness," he promises A'riste and looks over at the assistant who has finished swiping off the stool and is beckoning with a meaningful look towards X'den. Again, Paddy is efficient and careful with the shears, changing one even layer to a shorter crop on the sides so it doesn't swing into A'riste's face. Pale locks join dark on the floor. He grins over at D'kai while cutting for the offer of hand-holding.
X'den sighs quietly and shakes his head as he watches Berit, knowing the value of a woman's hair from a male standpoint at a very conservitive hold. THere's that stoney-faced resolve about his own hair, eyes all aflash with resentment, even if he knows why it has to be done. At the offer to hold his hand he snorts, "I don't need my hand held, but I will need company picking out a hat or two. I was going to ask Berit but ... I think she needs a moment." He scoots forward in line, raking fingers through his forelock with an even darker look towards the shears and a low mutter of oaths.
"Fine. I'll hold my own, then," D'kai mutters mock-sullenly, and so he does, clasping one hand in the other and gently petting his fingers. "There, there, Deke. Never fear. Your hair will grow back. Hey, if you're all going hat shopping, can I tag with? Winter's much to cold to go around bear-headed." Not that he's shaved clean, but with the Fort days like they were...
A'riste glances down, caught by the contrast of their shorn hair at his feet, before he looks back up. His expression - blandly smug - never changes, and when P'draig's done, he rises and makes room for someone else. His hair's a close-cropped near-white cap around his head, and he reaches up to brush lingering strands away. His fine-boned features seem sharper now, his cheekbones especially, and his eyes brilliant blue without the shadow of long bangs.
"I'm sure the Sebring'll have a lovely assortment of hats to help you out with," P'draig quips a little and shakes his head, clearing the shears of lingering hairs as he tackles the next Weyrling, a fellow with quite the head of hair who takes longer than the others so far. X'den gets similar efficient treatment to A'riste from the assistant, hair cut short at the nape, any front hair trimmed back so it doesn't get in the eyes, but some length left at the sides so it's not a 'buzz cut' just neat and tidy.
X'den gives A'riste a thoughtful look and there's a small grin at the other weyrling before he drops his gaze, giving himself a shake. THen he throws himself into the chair. Ok, not that dramatic but there's a definately rebelion in his movements as he sits down. "You're certainly welcome to come with me D'kai." THere's a small grumble as the white-frontlock of his hair tumbles down to join the rest, leaving his head all sleek and jet-black. THere's certainly something missing about him without it, his gaze more direct without the sheild of hair to guard him. THere's more muttering as he makes to get up. "When do we get to grow it back?"