Log: Inner Caverns Chat
Who: Padraig, Rain, P'wert, Charlie
When: day 26, month 7, turn 50 of the 10th Pass.
Where: Inner Caverns, Fort Weyr
What: Paddy meets Rain and chats with her and P'wert.
Inner Caverns(#944RJL$)
Lower than the Living Cavern above, this room is still a large, bustling place. Hearths heat some of the areas here, allowing elderly and ill residents to rest here rather than mount the steps to the Living Cavern above. Rooms open out to the storerooms, the children's areas, the private rooms of staff members and some of the residents. Laundry rooms and bathing areas down one set of stairs draw near-constant traffic throughout the day.
Two long corridors lead off of here, one to the east and one to the south, going to the crafters' and staff quarters respectively. Noise drifts out from the curtain to the northeast that leads to the residents dorms, and a small door to the north leads to the guest room. A short flight of stairs to the west leads back to the Living Caverns.
Rain is sitting cross-legged on a padded bench, not too close to the fire, for those seats are reserved for aunties. She's got enourmous wooden knitting needles, and her russet-red curls bounce as she puts her whole body into the knitting she's doing.
Tall now, Rain often seems surprised to find herself all womanly, but then, so does everyone who knows her. The same enthusiastic hair frames her face in a tangly mess, with uncontrollable curl inherited from her mother, but deep russet-red tones from her father's side. Her beguiling cobalt-blue eyes resemble her father's almost alarmingly. Growing up has not cured her of the tendency to dance where'er she goes, and her expressive face still changes in a flash from happy, to triumphant, proud, joyous, perturbed or terribly angry. But it has given her ample curves and a fluid grace. As the daughter of a Master Weaver and a seamstress herself, her clothing is usually made of expensive fabrics with picky attention to detail.
Padraig slips out of the Candidate Barracks, a hide in one hand. He looks around the room, nodding politely to an elderly uncle he's helped before while on duty. "Good evening Apopho," he says very clearly then moves to a seat near a glowbasket, where he can read. He notes the young woman knitting as he sits and grins. "You make that look like exercise," he notes lightly.
Rain looks up, startled, pulled out of a knitting trance. "Oh!" she says brightly, then considers Padraig's comment with an obvious furrowing. "Well. Perhaps it is."
Padraig chuckles softly and holds out a hand. "Sorry ... didn't mean to startle you, it's just I don't think I've ever seen anyone getting into making ... um ... what are you making? I'm Padraig by the way, Candidate," he supplies with a dip of his white-knotted shoulder.
Rain holds up the knitting and answers brightly. "It's a sweater! Made of the finest Reaches llama wool." What she's knitting will likely be a small tent. If she doesn't kill anyone with those enourmous knitting needles in the process. Then, in response to the introductions, she grins, "Another candidate. Good to meet you, Padraig. Hello Xandera. Finding your way around?"
Padraig looks around at Xandera in surprise, not having seen her. "Oh ... hello there," he says and nods her way as well from his seat near where Rain is. "Oh - for someone in particular, or for you?" he asks of Rain, then he tilts the glow-basket on the table beside him just a little more towards him and starts to peruse the hide he has in his hand when P'wert enters and he hastily shuffles it into his pocket.
Rain hmmms, about to answer Padraig's question, but then she scowls suddenly. "one sec here, she mutters, and suddenly she's pulling a different needle out of her knitting bag, and working to recover a dropped stitch, and after that's recovered, then she needs to count the stitches. And the rows. One by one. It distracts her for several minutes.
P'wert comes out of the Hotsprings, clothed in a tightly wrapped towel that hands from his waist to his feet. His shirt is slung over one shoulder casually. That little guilty action of hiding that hide, catches P'wert attention. He moves slowly towards Padraig - almost as if he wasn't heading in his direction. Then, suddenly, he's up behind him (likely noticed). "Doing some reading, Padraig?"
Padraig nods Rain's way as she gets busy with fixing up her knitting, then he looks up at P'wert, trying hard to look completely innocent. "Err ... yessir ..." he says, nodding. "Bit of something um ... personal."
P'wert eyes Padraig rather suspiciously. "Is that so? Haven't you learned yet that nothing is private in the weyr? Especially not as a candidate. Come. Let me see it. If it's something embarrassing, I will return it to you. If not, and it's something you shouldn't be reading . . . well now, that could be a problem."
Xandera smirk
Padraig colors right on up and sighs. "It's not that it'd be embarrassing to -me- sir ..." he says slowly, but pulls the hide out and hands it over, duly chastised. Then he sits on the edge of the bench he'd chosen, peering up at the rider a bit anxiously.
The tips of P'wert's cheeks colour just a tad. He scans the note twice, and holds it out from Padraig, "Is this from Piper, or one of the other girls? I know you've caught a few eyes, Padraig, but this one seems a little fond of you."
Padraig coughs a few times at P'wert's words. "Erm ... no sir, not Piper sir," he answers rather vaguely. "And err ... I suppose so ..."
P'wert smirks ever so slightly at Padraig, and takes a seat nearby, adjusting his towel as he does so. "You're sure? Seems like she's, ahhh. Well, she was worried about some things, anyways. Nothing to worry about. The girls, I mean. They come and they go - you just have to hope the ones you don't like go sooner than those you do. But anyways, Padraig, whatever happens, try not to forget about being a candidate and all. Can't do anything for a while yet - not even kissing, eh?"
Padraig blinks at P'wert a few times, looking not a little confused, perhaps even a little worried. He blurts out suddenly: "She talked to you?" Then he's coloring up again. "And sure I'm sure ... Piper's got -Harper- handwriting," he says waving the retrieved not slightly then he hastily tucks it away again. There's a pause and then a rush of sudden questions. "She's worried? About things? What sort of things?" Then he squirms a bit uncomfortably, leaning back against the cavern wall. "Uhh .... well some I'd rather not --" he stops and stares at the rider, then mumbles out another tidbit of information. "Haven't kissed Piper."
"Seems I hit the nail on the head." P'wert muses. He glances at Rain, "Oh, well, kissing leads to other things - maybe even babies. Best to steer clear of trouble. We were allowed to kiss at Igen, mind, but I watched a candidate get in big trouble for a peck on the cheek, which makes the whole allowed to thing doubtful - but hey." P'wert turns to Padraig chuckling in slow desert drawl. "So I was right. Thank you for confirming it - and be easy, Padraig. She was just worried about doing a dodge roll on the sands. "Was worried about you being there to see her dodge."
Rain rolls her eyes and resumes her knitting. "What's wrong with dodging?" she now asks without looking up.
Padraig turns several more shades of red as P'wert refers to kissing leading to 'things' but he doesn't say a word about that. Oh, no. For the rider's last there's a bit of a glare and arms folded across his chest and lower lip jutting out a bit, but he can't help but ask. "What was she worried about with me seeing her dodge? I don't get it."
P'wert snorts softly. "Well, if she dodge rolls - you only get to wear your robes, and, I think your small clothes. We were allowed to at Igen, anyways. Well. You figure it out, Padraig - Rain."
Rain looks up from her knitting again, puzzling this one. "If she likes him, then what's the problem with him seeing her in her small clothes?"
P'wert frowns at Rain. "Holder/craftbred." he says with a sigh.
Padraig blinks at P'wert, completely perplexed at this point. "Huh?" he says oh-so-expressively. And then from the look on his face, he is in fact, trying to figure it himself, but he's not coming up with 2+2=4.
Rain rolls her eyes again. "If I had a ball of mud here right now," Rain says, "I'd throw it at you." But she doesn't. So a neatly rolled ball of yarn is snatched from her knitting bag, and lobbed (underhand) towards P'wert.
A lightning bolt may well have hit the room though at Rain's words. At least in Padraig's vicinity. He stares from resident to rider and back and facepalms. "Shells n' shards ... like -that- matters any? Haven't we all been bare naked in the baths?"
P'wert peers at Rain. "I believe I came out the better at our last encounter. But we shall have to try again soon - once the egggs hatch." He shrugs at Padraig, "Well, it's different when you're not cleaning yourself, I suppose."
Rain shrugs, a hardly noticeable gesture with all the effort she's putting into weilding those enourmous knitting needles. "They do naked at Reaches," she murmers.
Padraig looks a bit put out still, then P'wert's words eke a grin out of the lad. "Yeahhh that'd be different all right."
P'wert winks at Padraig. "In truth, I found it weird to watch everyone swim in a weyr at first. Don't worry. She'll get over it eventually.
Padraig scrubs a hand through his hair and nods. "Yeah, I suppose that would be odd to get used to if you weren't raised that way," he acknowledges then grins sideways. "Sure hope so ... 'cos she's awfully nice and I wouldn't want to upset her by doing something stupid without realizing it."
A comment just bursts out of Rain, "Right. It's good to do all your stupid things deliberately," she agrees.
P'wert chuckles softly, and says quietly to the other boy, "You'll always upset a women, boy, no matter how much you try not to. Exciteable things." Louder, for Rain to hear, he says, "Don't worry about. She's a nice girl alright, and I'm sure she'll not hold it against you." None the less, he looksat Padraig pointedly, and tilts his head. Rain gets a startled look, "Why be stupid deliberately?
Rain clucks her tongue. "Much better than doing stupid things without realizing it."
Padraig listens to P'wert, a little taken aback by his assessment of women. "Um ... okay sir," he says, looking a bit disbelieving, but he's much relieved at the "not hold it against you" comment and then peeks around at Rain. "Uhhh ... sure ... but I'd rather do something dumb by mistake too ... rather realize it y'know, and avoid it?"
"Mistakes are mistakes. They happen, Padraig." he starts to put on his shirt; his hair is starting to be dry, now.
Rain just tosses back her head and laughs, a merry, happy waterfall of laughter. All while still knitting her tent-sweater.
Charlie peeks her head out from the candidates barracks, curling fingers around the corners of the stone entrance and cocking her head slightly to give her a good vantage point. "What's goin' on?" She murmurs, waiting for someone to notice her.
Padraig makes a bit of a face. "I guess ..." he says, nodding thoughtfully. "Don't like making 'em much."
P'wert nods in agreement. "They do sucketh muchly, my dear candidate; but you can't avoid them. Sometimes a mistake will not be perceived as one, others, not mistakes, will be brought up as ones, and the rain shall fall more heavily on those ones than the real ones."
Padraig rubs at his chin with one hand and grunts rather darkly. "Well ... I guess I can only do my best and - hey Charlie!" he sits up and waves to his fellow Candidate.
Charlie quirks an eyebrow and her lips simultaneously, smiling slightly as she edges slowly out of the barracks, looking quite clean -- perhaps from the long bath post this day's dodgeball lesson. Hair is drawn off her face neatly, a pale pink band perpetuating her petite, sweet disposition. "Hey Paddy," She says softly, eyes shifting to P'wert and Rain. "P'wert, Sir, Rain." Nodnod.
P'wert thunks his head on the table gently. he's sitting there, wrapped in a towel fromt he waist down ; whitch his shirt just freshly put on. "Does Draila really have you sirring everyone? There'll be plenty of time for you to sir me as a weyrling. I'm too new from Weyrlinghood to accept the sir just yet. How're you, Charlie?"
Rain tosses another yarn ball at P'wert, heckling, "Just take your sirs like a good little bronzer."
P'wert catches the Yarn ball deftly, and wings it back at Rain, "Just be thankful I don't salute you, Rain. It's only been a turn."
Padraig chuckles at the interplay between Rain and P'wert, though he's sitting well back to avoid getting hit in the head by any yarn. "How are ya?" he sends Charlie's way over spinning yarn.
Rain snatches the yarn ball out of midair. After all, you don't want to waste good Reaches yarn. Just toss it around a minute. "Salute me all you want," she dares. "You can't scare me." But as she catches the yarn, one of the needles slides out of the loops of the knitting, and she cusses under her breath as she picks up the needle and starts to insert it back into the stitches.
Charlie takes a few more steps away from the door, but pauses and turns back, reclining lazily along the stone in a pose she feels isn't entirely unsuited to the situation. Head inclined comfortably against a niche in the rock, she allows herself to yawn before grinning at P'wert. "I'm fine, thanks." She replies, then smiles at Padraig and Rain. "On my way to meet Kyan for some food." A pause. "Today's dodgeball was great fun, but I'm absolutely stuffed now." Cue another yawn, as if she's trying to prove it.
P'wert leans towards Rain ever so slightly, "Oh, what if I called you ma'am? Or lady Rain? Of course, then any harper would slap my wrist, but hey, it'd be fun to see you angry." He stands up gracefully; "I should leave you to your knitting - and Padraig, perhaps you should talk to those eyes."
Charlie chuckles softly before nodding dutifully to P'wert -- whether he likes it or not, r-e-s-p-e-c-t is what he's getting -- and begins her way to the caverns. "See you guys round," She adds, and disappears.
Rain blinks twice at P'wert. "For all that I've known you for turns, P'wert, you really don't know me all that well," she drawls, and shrugs. "But I'm sure if you try hard enough, you'd find a way to get me angry."
P'wert eyes Charlie with a touch of resignation. He sighs, though, and moves towards the bowl. He winks at Rain as he leaves, "I will indeed, should I try." With that, he saunters out.
Rain turns to Padraig and asks, "Why would calling me Lady Rain make me angry?"
Padraig considers P'wert's parting words for a moment, then nods slightly to himself and sends a waves after Charlie. He blinks at Rain and shrugs. "I dunno ... maybe if you're not big on tokens of respect?"
Rain frowns at this. "Maybe he's not big on tokens of respect. He has no right to expect me to be just like him in that regard."
Padraig opens his mouth and then shuts it. In over his head. "Erm ... sure ... everyone's different I guess ..." he muddles through.
Rain's needles are fast and furious. "Yes they are," she agrees. "Yes they are."
Padraig eyes those needles for a moment, perhaps even with a dose of fear. "So err ... you lived here all your life... or?"
Rain shakes her head, needles not slowing in the least. "Born at Weavercraft Hall. Fostered at Igen Weyr. Moved here with my auntie and grandmama. I'll end up at Reaches eventually. The hold," she clarifies. "Where'd you land here from?"
Padraig takes that in. "That's a few places," he says amicably then nods. "High Reaches, the weyr. Born and raised," he notes then smiles. "Why the hold/"
Rain answers simply, almost curtly. "Family." Turns the topic back to the candidate, "Do you miss it yet?"
Padraig gives the young lady a long look then nods. "Sure do. Miss my family. My sibs. Friends."
Rain nods. "But you've got friends here now," Rain asks, but it's only barely a question. "And a girl who wants you to see her small clothes. Or not see them. Something."
Padraig nods. "Oh definitely ... yes it's been ... an adventure to come here, certainly and yeah, good friends." Then he's grinning and ducking his head a little. "Yeah ... something. I like the something, no matter what it winds up being."
Rain giggles to herself. "Yeah. Something. That's good," she agrees.
Padraig just grins up at her sidelong then shakes himself to his feet. "Speaking of various somethings, one something I need right now is a bite to eat ... and some sleep. So I'll see you around I guess?"
Rain drawls easily, "If your eyes are open. Enjoy your something," She gives a wave, and the tent-sweater waves with it.
Padraig laughs and walks out, waving as he goes.
When: day 26, month 7, turn 50 of the 10th Pass.
Where: Inner Caverns, Fort Weyr
What: Paddy meets Rain and chats with her and P'wert.
Inner Caverns(#944RJL$)
Lower than the Living Cavern above, this room is still a large, bustling place. Hearths heat some of the areas here, allowing elderly and ill residents to rest here rather than mount the steps to the Living Cavern above. Rooms open out to the storerooms, the children's areas, the private rooms of staff members and some of the residents. Laundry rooms and bathing areas down one set of stairs draw near-constant traffic throughout the day.
Two long corridors lead off of here, one to the east and one to the south, going to the crafters' and staff quarters respectively. Noise drifts out from the curtain to the northeast that leads to the residents dorms, and a small door to the north leads to the guest room. A short flight of stairs to the west leads back to the Living Caverns.
Rain is sitting cross-legged on a padded bench, not too close to the fire, for those seats are reserved for aunties. She's got enourmous wooden knitting needles, and her russet-red curls bounce as she puts her whole body into the knitting she's doing.
Tall now, Rain often seems surprised to find herself all womanly, but then, so does everyone who knows her. The same enthusiastic hair frames her face in a tangly mess, with uncontrollable curl inherited from her mother, but deep russet-red tones from her father's side. Her beguiling cobalt-blue eyes resemble her father's almost alarmingly. Growing up has not cured her of the tendency to dance where'er she goes, and her expressive face still changes in a flash from happy, to triumphant, proud, joyous, perturbed or terribly angry. But it has given her ample curves and a fluid grace. As the daughter of a Master Weaver and a seamstress herself, her clothing is usually made of expensive fabrics with picky attention to detail.
Padraig slips out of the Candidate Barracks, a hide in one hand. He looks around the room, nodding politely to an elderly uncle he's helped before while on duty. "Good evening Apopho," he says very clearly then moves to a seat near a glowbasket, where he can read. He notes the young woman knitting as he sits and grins. "You make that look like exercise," he notes lightly.
Rain looks up, startled, pulled out of a knitting trance. "Oh!" she says brightly, then considers Padraig's comment with an obvious furrowing. "Well. Perhaps it is."
Padraig chuckles softly and holds out a hand. "Sorry ... didn't mean to startle you, it's just I don't think I've ever seen anyone getting into making ... um ... what are you making? I'm Padraig by the way, Candidate," he supplies with a dip of his white-knotted shoulder.
Rain holds up the knitting and answers brightly. "It's a sweater! Made of the finest Reaches llama wool." What she's knitting will likely be a small tent. If she doesn't kill anyone with those enourmous knitting needles in the process. Then, in response to the introductions, she grins, "Another candidate. Good to meet you, Padraig. Hello Xandera. Finding your way around?"
Padraig looks around at Xandera in surprise, not having seen her. "Oh ... hello there," he says and nods her way as well from his seat near where Rain is. "Oh - for someone in particular, or for you?" he asks of Rain, then he tilts the glow-basket on the table beside him just a little more towards him and starts to peruse the hide he has in his hand when P'wert enters and he hastily shuffles it into his pocket.
Rain hmmms, about to answer Padraig's question, but then she scowls suddenly. "one sec here, she mutters, and suddenly she's pulling a different needle out of her knitting bag, and working to recover a dropped stitch, and after that's recovered, then she needs to count the stitches. And the rows. One by one. It distracts her for several minutes.
P'wert comes out of the Hotsprings, clothed in a tightly wrapped towel that hands from his waist to his feet. His shirt is slung over one shoulder casually. That little guilty action of hiding that hide, catches P'wert attention. He moves slowly towards Padraig - almost as if he wasn't heading in his direction. Then, suddenly, he's up behind him (likely noticed). "Doing some reading, Padraig?"
Padraig nods Rain's way as she gets busy with fixing up her knitting, then he looks up at P'wert, trying hard to look completely innocent. "Err ... yessir ..." he says, nodding. "Bit of something um ... personal."
P'wert eyes Padraig rather suspiciously. "Is that so? Haven't you learned yet that nothing is private in the weyr? Especially not as a candidate. Come. Let me see it. If it's something embarrassing, I will return it to you. If not, and it's something you shouldn't be reading . . . well now, that could be a problem."
Xandera smirk
Padraig colors right on up and sighs. "It's not that it'd be embarrassing to -me- sir ..." he says slowly, but pulls the hide out and hands it over, duly chastised. Then he sits on the edge of the bench he'd chosen, peering up at the rider a bit anxiously.
The tips of P'wert's cheeks colour just a tad. He scans the note twice, and holds it out from Padraig, "Is this from Piper, or one of the other girls? I know you've caught a few eyes, Padraig, but this one seems a little fond of you."
Padraig coughs a few times at P'wert's words. "Erm ... no sir, not Piper sir," he answers rather vaguely. "And err ... I suppose so ..."
P'wert smirks ever so slightly at Padraig, and takes a seat nearby, adjusting his towel as he does so. "You're sure? Seems like she's, ahhh. Well, she was worried about some things, anyways. Nothing to worry about. The girls, I mean. They come and they go - you just have to hope the ones you don't like go sooner than those you do. But anyways, Padraig, whatever happens, try not to forget about being a candidate and all. Can't do anything for a while yet - not even kissing, eh?"
Padraig blinks at P'wert a few times, looking not a little confused, perhaps even a little worried. He blurts out suddenly: "She talked to you?" Then he's coloring up again. "And sure I'm sure ... Piper's got -Harper- handwriting," he says waving the retrieved not slightly then he hastily tucks it away again. There's a pause and then a rush of sudden questions. "She's worried? About things? What sort of things?" Then he squirms a bit uncomfortably, leaning back against the cavern wall. "Uhh .... well some I'd rather not --" he stops and stares at the rider, then mumbles out another tidbit of information. "Haven't kissed Piper."
"Seems I hit the nail on the head." P'wert muses. He glances at Rain, "Oh, well, kissing leads to other things - maybe even babies. Best to steer clear of trouble. We were allowed to kiss at Igen, mind, but I watched a candidate get in big trouble for a peck on the cheek, which makes the whole allowed to thing doubtful - but hey." P'wert turns to Padraig chuckling in slow desert drawl. "So I was right. Thank you for confirming it - and be easy, Padraig. She was just worried about doing a dodge roll on the sands. "Was worried about you being there to see her dodge."
Rain rolls her eyes and resumes her knitting. "What's wrong with dodging?" she now asks without looking up.
Padraig turns several more shades of red as P'wert refers to kissing leading to 'things' but he doesn't say a word about that. Oh, no. For the rider's last there's a bit of a glare and arms folded across his chest and lower lip jutting out a bit, but he can't help but ask. "What was she worried about with me seeing her dodge? I don't get it."
P'wert snorts softly. "Well, if she dodge rolls - you only get to wear your robes, and, I think your small clothes. We were allowed to at Igen, anyways. Well. You figure it out, Padraig - Rain."
Rain looks up from her knitting again, puzzling this one. "If she likes him, then what's the problem with him seeing her in her small clothes?"
P'wert frowns at Rain. "Holder/craftbred." he says with a sigh.
Padraig blinks at P'wert, completely perplexed at this point. "Huh?" he says oh-so-expressively. And then from the look on his face, he is in fact, trying to figure it himself, but he's not coming up with 2+2=4.
Rain rolls her eyes again. "If I had a ball of mud here right now," Rain says, "I'd throw it at you." But she doesn't. So a neatly rolled ball of yarn is snatched from her knitting bag, and lobbed (underhand) towards P'wert.
A lightning bolt may well have hit the room though at Rain's words. At least in Padraig's vicinity. He stares from resident to rider and back and facepalms. "Shells n' shards ... like -that- matters any? Haven't we all been bare naked in the baths?"
P'wert peers at Rain. "I believe I came out the better at our last encounter. But we shall have to try again soon - once the egggs hatch." He shrugs at Padraig, "Well, it's different when you're not cleaning yourself, I suppose."
Rain shrugs, a hardly noticeable gesture with all the effort she's putting into weilding those enourmous knitting needles. "They do naked at Reaches," she murmers.
Padraig looks a bit put out still, then P'wert's words eke a grin out of the lad. "Yeahhh that'd be different all right."
P'wert winks at Padraig. "In truth, I found it weird to watch everyone swim in a weyr at first. Don't worry. She'll get over it eventually.
Padraig scrubs a hand through his hair and nods. "Yeah, I suppose that would be odd to get used to if you weren't raised that way," he acknowledges then grins sideways. "Sure hope so ... 'cos she's awfully nice and I wouldn't want to upset her by doing something stupid without realizing it."
A comment just bursts out of Rain, "Right. It's good to do all your stupid things deliberately," she agrees.
P'wert chuckles softly, and says quietly to the other boy, "You'll always upset a women, boy, no matter how much you try not to. Exciteable things." Louder, for Rain to hear, he says, "Don't worry about. She's a nice girl alright, and I'm sure she'll not hold it against you." None the less, he looksat Padraig pointedly, and tilts his head. Rain gets a startled look, "Why be stupid deliberately?
Rain clucks her tongue. "Much better than doing stupid things without realizing it."
Padraig listens to P'wert, a little taken aback by his assessment of women. "Um ... okay sir," he says, looking a bit disbelieving, but he's much relieved at the "not hold it against you" comment and then peeks around at Rain. "Uhhh ... sure ... but I'd rather do something dumb by mistake too ... rather realize it y'know, and avoid it?"
"Mistakes are mistakes. They happen, Padraig." he starts to put on his shirt; his hair is starting to be dry, now.
Rain just tosses back her head and laughs, a merry, happy waterfall of laughter. All while still knitting her tent-sweater.
Charlie peeks her head out from the candidates barracks, curling fingers around the corners of the stone entrance and cocking her head slightly to give her a good vantage point. "What's goin' on?" She murmurs, waiting for someone to notice her.
Padraig makes a bit of a face. "I guess ..." he says, nodding thoughtfully. "Don't like making 'em much."
P'wert nods in agreement. "They do sucketh muchly, my dear candidate; but you can't avoid them. Sometimes a mistake will not be perceived as one, others, not mistakes, will be brought up as ones, and the rain shall fall more heavily on those ones than the real ones."
Padraig rubs at his chin with one hand and grunts rather darkly. "Well ... I guess I can only do my best and - hey Charlie!" he sits up and waves to his fellow Candidate.
Charlie quirks an eyebrow and her lips simultaneously, smiling slightly as she edges slowly out of the barracks, looking quite clean -- perhaps from the long bath post this day's dodgeball lesson. Hair is drawn off her face neatly, a pale pink band perpetuating her petite, sweet disposition. "Hey Paddy," She says softly, eyes shifting to P'wert and Rain. "P'wert, Sir, Rain." Nodnod.
P'wert thunks his head on the table gently. he's sitting there, wrapped in a towel fromt he waist down ; whitch his shirt just freshly put on. "Does Draila really have you sirring everyone? There'll be plenty of time for you to sir me as a weyrling. I'm too new from Weyrlinghood to accept the sir just yet. How're you, Charlie?"
Rain tosses another yarn ball at P'wert, heckling, "Just take your sirs like a good little bronzer."
P'wert catches the Yarn ball deftly, and wings it back at Rain, "Just be thankful I don't salute you, Rain. It's only been a turn."
Padraig chuckles at the interplay between Rain and P'wert, though he's sitting well back to avoid getting hit in the head by any yarn. "How are ya?" he sends Charlie's way over spinning yarn.
Rain snatches the yarn ball out of midair. After all, you don't want to waste good Reaches yarn. Just toss it around a minute. "Salute me all you want," she dares. "You can't scare me." But as she catches the yarn, one of the needles slides out of the loops of the knitting, and she cusses under her breath as she picks up the needle and starts to insert it back into the stitches.
Charlie takes a few more steps away from the door, but pauses and turns back, reclining lazily along the stone in a pose she feels isn't entirely unsuited to the situation. Head inclined comfortably against a niche in the rock, she allows herself to yawn before grinning at P'wert. "I'm fine, thanks." She replies, then smiles at Padraig and Rain. "On my way to meet Kyan for some food." A pause. "Today's dodgeball was great fun, but I'm absolutely stuffed now." Cue another yawn, as if she's trying to prove it.
P'wert leans towards Rain ever so slightly, "Oh, what if I called you ma'am? Or lady Rain? Of course, then any harper would slap my wrist, but hey, it'd be fun to see you angry." He stands up gracefully; "I should leave you to your knitting - and Padraig, perhaps you should talk to those eyes."
Charlie chuckles softly before nodding dutifully to P'wert -- whether he likes it or not, r-e-s-p-e-c-t is what he's getting -- and begins her way to the caverns. "See you guys round," She adds, and disappears.
Rain blinks twice at P'wert. "For all that I've known you for turns, P'wert, you really don't know me all that well," she drawls, and shrugs. "But I'm sure if you try hard enough, you'd find a way to get me angry."
P'wert eyes Charlie with a touch of resignation. He sighs, though, and moves towards the bowl. He winks at Rain as he leaves, "I will indeed, should I try." With that, he saunters out.
Rain turns to Padraig and asks, "Why would calling me Lady Rain make me angry?"
Padraig considers P'wert's parting words for a moment, then nods slightly to himself and sends a waves after Charlie. He blinks at Rain and shrugs. "I dunno ... maybe if you're not big on tokens of respect?"
Rain frowns at this. "Maybe he's not big on tokens of respect. He has no right to expect me to be just like him in that regard."
Padraig opens his mouth and then shuts it. In over his head. "Erm ... sure ... everyone's different I guess ..." he muddles through.
Rain's needles are fast and furious. "Yes they are," she agrees. "Yes they are."
Padraig eyes those needles for a moment, perhaps even with a dose of fear. "So err ... you lived here all your life... or?"
Rain shakes her head, needles not slowing in the least. "Born at Weavercraft Hall. Fostered at Igen Weyr. Moved here with my auntie and grandmama. I'll end up at Reaches eventually. The hold," she clarifies. "Where'd you land here from?"
Padraig takes that in. "That's a few places," he says amicably then nods. "High Reaches, the weyr. Born and raised," he notes then smiles. "Why the hold/"
Rain answers simply, almost curtly. "Family." Turns the topic back to the candidate, "Do you miss it yet?"
Padraig gives the young lady a long look then nods. "Sure do. Miss my family. My sibs. Friends."
Rain nods. "But you've got friends here now," Rain asks, but it's only barely a question. "And a girl who wants you to see her small clothes. Or not see them. Something."
Padraig nods. "Oh definitely ... yes it's been ... an adventure to come here, certainly and yeah, good friends." Then he's grinning and ducking his head a little. "Yeah ... something. I like the something, no matter what it winds up being."
Rain giggles to herself. "Yeah. Something. That's good," she agrees.
Padraig just grins up at her sidelong then shakes himself to his feet. "Speaking of various somethings, one something I need right now is a bite to eat ... and some sleep. So I'll see you around I guess?"
Rain drawls easily, "If your eyes are open. Enjoy your something," She gives a wave, and the tent-sweater waves with it.
Padraig laughs and walks out, waving as he goes.