In which Nolee commiserates about chores with Rilayen, and Bendel advocates duty
Ista Weyr Residents' Cavern
Cots, tables, supplies, and general chaos is the rule of this huge elongated cavern and dormitory. Glows illuminate this mostly dark area, whose only outside light is reflected from the West Cavern. Most of the folk who sleep or play in this cavern are out working.
A gentle breeze blows through the cavern, fluttering the multitudes of curtains on all sides.
Rilayen
From the top of his head, complete with thick dirty blond hair, to the soles of his feet, Rilayen is a tall young man who looks as though he could do with filling out some more. His light brown eyes have a faintly orange tinge to them when they catch the light, though they can never be mistaken for more than hazel. His face is lightly tanned, the dark brown of several small moles sticking out along his jawline, a faint dusting of freckles on the back of his thin neck. His nose is short and pointed; his eyebrows so pale a blonde as to appear almost invisible. His lips are thin and square, while his cheeks carry a slight roundness that still hasn't been lost from younger Turns. He's the sort of boy one probably not look at twice, especially so given that his clothes are nothing particularly fancy: a plain, sleeveless green shirt and trousers the same brown as a dusty trail. His sandals are a little too big for his feet and have a battered air that suggests hand-me-downs. His shoulder knot shows him to be a resident of Ista Weyr/
Rilayen moves with a casual ease, unassuming and unthreatening. His arms often swings loosely at his sides, giving his movements a carefree appearance that matches the light tone of his (breaking) voice. He looks to be about 16 Turns, 2 months, and 27 days old, and is around five foot eleven inches tall.
Bendel
Pitch-black locks fall freely about this youth's face, kept short and extending merely inches from his skull at any one point. It's kept neat and tidy, and falls absently about his long, round face. Icy blue eyes are the most noticeable feature to his face, accompanied by a rather stout nose. Being a fairly normal size in nature, standing at 5'4 and still growing. He's fairly well built, anyone can see that, especially from turns of working working in the caverns. He is usually seen wearing a long-sleeved navy blue shirt, with black pants and leather boots.
He looks to be about is 17 Turns, 6 months, and 26 days old.
This spring afternoon finds Rilayen cooped up in the residents' cavern, sat at table and hunched over a hide. He's copying from a markedly older hide sat beside it, apparent by the fact that he looks at the aged hide every now and then before carefuly scribing the words. The occasional mutter or grumble drifts from his lips, a curse sometimes mixed in there as he scrubs something he's written out.
Swinging arms and long strides bring Nolee into the cavern, the deliberately playful movements bourne of sheer boredom. She halts in front of the chore board, frowning, hands settling on her hips. "Hmm, rotating." She removes one set of chore topics from above a list of names, then rewrites them onto the board one space sideways with a crumbly chalk. After not-too-long, the strains of cursing reach her ears, and she she stares, curious. "Ugh," her nose wrinkles. "I hate recopying, too."
Bendel wanders in rather quietly, dispite the chaos what is usually associated with the caverns, he's a bit dusty around the edges, especially considering he's just come in from working. His pace slows as he notes Nolee, coming to a stop as he watches her change around the chores. Saying nothing for the mean time and just waiting to see what new chores are listed.
Rilayen looks up from his task. "Oh, afternoon, goldrider." He grins, letting his hand wander from the hide so that he can tap the scribe against his chin. "S'a bore, isn't it? I gotta do some hides for the scribes who I might be working for," he notes that somewhat grumpily, smile fading as he nods to a small pile of hides still to go a little further up the table from him. "You do copying as well?" He asks Nolee, then peers past her at the chore board, looking curious. He gives Bendel a wave as the older boy comes in.
Nolee nods to Rilayen, "It is! I do, and it makes my fingers cramp and my nails peel." She returns some of her attention to the board, rewriting 'laundry' above team 5, and moving 'hearths' to 6, leaving team 7 a rest day and team 1 with residential support, which earns an expression of distaste. "That was always my least favorite," she tells the blue-eyed boy who is suddenly nearby, his dusty condition perhaps sparking the observation, "because the older ones, they sometimes smell." After a pause, she tells them both, "I guess I'd rather copy than work nurseries. How about you two?"
Bendel tilts his head to the side when he suddenly finds himself into the conversation, lifting a hand as he clears his throat quietly. "As long as it's something to do." Bendel mumbles quietly, letting his eyes sweep the board before he resumes his course, offering a quiet nod to the other as he heads for his own cot.
"Yuck." Rilayen makes a face, resembling for the moment a child many Turns younger than he actually is. "Don't forget the hand cramps. Write, write, write. You gotta do a lot of it?" He watches the weyrwoman rearrange the chores, his work forgotten for the time being. "Little kids." Another face. "Aunties and uncles! They're both awkward." He laughs at Nolee's remark on old people smelling. "Don't kids smell as well? They're too messy and stuff. Anyway, I'm good at writing," he says proudly. "I'd *definitely* rather do that."
Nolee looks expectantly at Bendel for his preference, and seems surprised when he doesn't voice it, only a sort of a mumble which she mostly misses. Her hand, which was hovering near the numeric team assignments, perhaps at the ready to make a change to suit her new companions, falls back to her side. "I do! Way too much, and if I make a mistake, I can't swear. I just have to start over." A roll of her eyes; silly rules. "They do! They should put 'em in the same caverns, to contain it." A glance back to Bendel, then, "You're not a scribe, then? Maybe a handyman?"
Bendel pauses for a moment, turning in his spot ever so slightly to peer over his shoulder. "A scribe, ma'am? No, I just do whatever I'm given." He gives a shrug simply as he shifts uncomfortably in his spot. He ducks a little, as if trying to sneak his way out of the conversation, quickening his pace to his cot.
Rilayen screws up one side of his face in a sympathetic look. "No swearin'? Well, not that I'm s'pposed to." His face breaks into a grin. "I guess you don't copy the same sorta stuff as I've got here, though." He loosk down at the hides before prodding them with the scribe, causing one to slip off the table. Ril dives to catch it and hastens to smooth the crumbled sheet out on the table. Whoops. "Put lots of flowers in or somethin'," he adds to Nolee's idea, then looks over at Bendel. "You been working outside?"
Nolee squints at the shifty boy, his ducking drawing attention to rather than from him. "Why you so anxious? I'm not going to turn you in if you were out shooting home-made blunt arrows at firelizards, so you can just confess it if you wanted a day off." She looks to Rilayen to confirm her assessment, distracted by the paper's adventures through the air. "Hunh? Yeah, flowers. And it's probably different. Mine's all boring stuff. Who tithed what, and how many beet plants, who begat who else, and all that."
Bendel lets his shoulders droop ever so slightly before finally turning to face the others, shrugging simply. "I went to visit the stables." He says simply, "Why would I shoot at firelizards? Isn't that mean? What if they were hurt?" He shuffles in his spot once more, "I'm not anxious."
"To make the people smell better. The flowers," Rilayen says to Nolee. The hide's acceptably smooth again, so the boy guiltily puts it back on the pile. "All that boring stuff the Weyrwoman has to do? Weyrwomen," he corrects himself. "Sounds like fun." He snorts, rolling his eyes. Yeah, right. "I think this is some records of births or somethin'," he notes of the hides on the table, then stares at Bendel's shuffling.
"It is mean, but usually they're smart enough to clear out. Except maybe mine." Nolee sighs, exasperated. "Sure, you're not anxious, and I'm not stalling here to avoid having to check in at the docks to see if the boat-cleaning rags were refilled by the girl assigned to that job." That hand on hip drums across the left one, "I'm not -the- one. Her work is much more boring than mine. At least I get to be outside some of the time. Say, what was at the stables, anyway? Any newborns? I hope not, or I'll have to write about 'em."
Bendel gets a slight smile to his face, nodding a little bit, "There were a few foals, one of the mares gave birth a few nights ago." This is a safe subject, it seems. "it was walking around a day or two, it's all ready starting to grow." He shifts in his spot once more, his eyes flickering to his cot, as if judging how long it'll take to flee there.
Rilayen smirks at Bendel, announcing, "Jumpy as a runner, you are." He lets out a loud laugh, smiling good-naturedly at the boy. "You're a stablehand, then?" The thought of being cooped up inside for work isn't attractive one, to judge by his grimace. "Being outside's better than bein' stuck in here with dusty hides," he says to Nolee. "So you have to go around and check up on things and stuff?" He asks, curious.
Nolee laughs at Rilayen's observation, nodding her agreement. "He is, exactly. Guess we can tell what you're most fond of," is back at Bendel, "even if you say you'd do whatever chores come up. If you're not, you should apprentice there, maybe? Then you could do things you like." Nolee smacks her hands together, ridding them of chalky dust. "Today I do. And heaps of other days, though sometimes it's the most unpleasant of all: Lunch with Gree-r." A shudder. "How many made it, did you say?"
Bendel gets a slight blush to his cheeks and he quickly lets his head fall to the floor, shuffling even more with all the attention. "I just like helping." Is his meager reply. He takes a hesitant step backwards, as if testing his footing before stuffing his fingers into his pockets again and turning on his heel to head once more to his cot.
Rilayen laughs at the rider's shudder, then looks at his work with a sigh. "Better get this all done. They'll prolly only give me more when I've done it though." With a grumble under his breath at the scribes, Ril hunches over the hides once more and gets back into what he was doing.
Nolee turns her back on the nervous boy, instead checking the chore rotation to be sure every group has a job. After rearranging the last few title blocks, she rubs her hands on her tan pants, leaving a powdery dusting behind along one hip. She watches Rilayen get back to work, and decides not to disturb him further, which leaves the dusty boy to talk to. "What were you supposed to be doing instead? Not that I'll tell, I mean."
Bendel looks over his shoulder, "You mean my chores, ma'am?" Bendel questions, his brows furrowing as he tugs off his dusty shirt, beating at it with his hand. "I think I was in the kitchens or something like that. I was going to do that after I visited the foals."
Nolee leans against the desk that is placed in front of the chore board, her broad hips taking up most of its available real estate. Politely, she casts her gaze away as he bats at his shirt, studying a small trundlebug creeping across the floor, raptly. "The kitchens aren't so bad, if you don't mind the heat. Oh, have you gotten to rub down the foals, with the little brush-thing? They seem to like that."
Bendel pulls out a cleaner shirt and tugs it on absently, stretching it out for observation before taking a seat onto his cot, "I don't mind, it's something to do to keep busy, that's what work is, isn't it? Something to take up time and make it go faster, we'd be bored if we sat around and did nothing all day every day." Bendel offers quietly, "No...the stablehands do that, I've offered the owners to help a few times, but they just stare at me like I'm stupid or something." He chews on his bottom lip, staring distantly at the floor.
Nolee stretches her toes, waggling them within the battered sandal and scratching the top of one against the leather strap of the other. "You think so?" Nolee blinks at the thought, horrified. "I could while the hours away quite happily if I never had another chore, ever, and I wouldn't miss it at all." This assertion made, she leans her arms back on the desk, in a resting position. "You probably acted all shifty, like when I asked you about your chores. If you're all nervous, they won't let you get close. It scares the babies."
Bendel shrugs, "It's not the animals I'm nervous around, I just like to keep to myself. I don't...like talking to people." He idly pokes the fabric of his pants. At least he's calmed down enough to say more than a few sentances. "I don't mind chores, it keeps me busy."
Gregarious Nolee doesn't seem to mind at all the other's confession that he isn't so fond of talking to other people. In fact, she chatters along as if he'd said the opposite. "You said that. Me, I'd rather sleep on the beach, or fix the color in my hair with citron, or play string-pass with some of the littles. Unfortunately, only one of those counts as a chore, barely. What else do you do?" She taps the team list on the wall behind herself. "Whatever the list says?"
Bendel merely listens, nodding his head quietly as the weyrwoman blabbers on, still staring at the ground absently. "Whatever the list says." He agrees with another nod. Yeah, not a chatty one, this one. "wouldn't you get sand in your clothes?"
Nolee kicks off her sandals as the trundlebug passes, pulling her feet up and tucking them under herself so she's balancing on the small desk. "I guess that's good. We need responsible residents like you, or else nothing would ever get done." Her tone sounds like a rote repetition, something she's been told and is repeating for the good of the Weyr. "In them? Sure, but it brushes out. Or else, I've had sand in my clothes so long, I don't notice it anymore."
Bendel pushes himself into a more presentable fashion, as if seeming to remind himself that he's in the presence of a weyrwoman. His head gives another curt nod, "I just do what I'm told." He repeats once more, not really exaggerating on the subject. "I don't usually visit the beach anyway. It's noisy there."
Nolee doesn't notice his posture improvement, but she does make a sour face. "I'd melt into boredom if that's all I -ever- did. You should meet M'yr. He's never been satisfied just doing what he's told; he wants to do more, learn more, and challenge things." A squint his way, lingering on his tidy haircut. "I guess if you mostly follow rules, those things aren't important to you, though." A frown, and she adds, "The beach is fun! It's active! That's what's so great about it."
Bendel tilts his head, "M'yr? I don't think I've met him...I don't usually talk to the riders." He shrugs simply, his fingers fidgeting with his shirt for a little bit. "Rules are there for a reason, aren't they? So why would someone ignore them?"
"M'yr's not like a normal rider. He's easy to talk to." That encouragement leads Nolee to scratching her head, her toes stretching back out to find her sandals as the trundlebug disappears across the room. "Hm. Well, some of the rules are for good reason, like safety rules? Like 'don't fly without a helmet if dragons are making fire,' that kind of thing? Or 'don't run with knives.' But some of them? Just seem frivolous. Like that you can't pet the foal even though you really want to. If you're careful, and they teach you, then why not? But if no one ever spoke up, no frivilous rules would change."
Bendel idly rubs his finger against his pants he's still staring at his own feet. "Rules are rules, aren't they? They're meant to be followed. If everyone made acceptions to the rules, then there would be chaos."
Nolee sighs, her way of responding when she hasn't thought through how her position on the issue would effect her position within the weyr, if everyone took her 'advice,' and is just now giving the matter some thinking time. "Not every person, or every rule. But the frivolous ones? And we don't find out which are silly, like when I was a child? We couldn't eat raw greenfruit because my grandmother got sick from it once. But now, we know it was just her being sick once, and not something bad about the fruit. If no one had tried, broken the rule? We wouldn't be able to eat it still. Now do you see?"
Bendel looks up at the goldrider, "Then someone else can find out that the rule is usless, I rather follow them until they're removed or something."
Nolee sits up, leaning forward to tug her sandals onto the right feet. One last check of the chore board, and it gets a curt nod. "Have it your way. I suppose I should be grateful? That not everyone is running amok or slacking on their chores. So thank you, for the service you do the Weyr." She gives him a bright smile, then heads off, tossing back over her shoulder, "Though you should ask again about the foals. Sometimes the nice 'crafters are on duty and might say yes."