In which Nolee suggests the candidates write farewell letters, just in case
Candidate's Quarters
Nolee brushes past the curtain, blinking in the glowlight of the cavern she hasn't visited much in a few turns. Her arms are full of hides, and she looks past them, a resolute and awfully chipper smile on her face. "Afternoon, Candidates! It's time to think about writing what could very well be your last letter home." After an intro like that, who needs a fanfare?
Rilayen, lounging about on his cot, looks up with a start at Nolee's entrance. "Oh, ma'am, er." He swings his legs round so that he's sitting on the edge of the bed, arms coming down from where they supported his head to lay palm-down on the sheets, one either side of him. "Last letter home?" His confusion is shown in his innocent blinking.
Moyra looks up from where she is working on the last touches on her robe, evidently the one she used before because its a hint neater than most. "Ah, not that bad." She says, grinning as she hears the comment from Nolee.
Nolee finds an empty cot, likely that belonging to some unfortunate who is still stuck out on chore duty, and drops the hides and some writing styluses onto it. They are summarily deposited, one on each cot, for, one assumes, later candidate use. "Aw, Moyra, don't spoil it," she laughs the assistant headwoman's way, then dons that serious expression agian. "Yes. Some of you might get really badly hurt out there, and we'd like to protect oursel--er, make sure your parents are aware that you're doing this all voluntarily. And, of course, so you can share with them any thoughts you're having now. Excitement, all of that stuff."
Kaylon brushes hair back off his face. "Aw, I don't need to write a letter. My folks live right here. I see them pretty much lots."
Rilayen shoots Moyra a look that betrays a touch of anxiety before returning his gaze to Nolee. "M'parents are gonna be in the stands watching." A quiet smile at that thought. "So they'll see everything. Er, injuries and all." He apparently hasn't thought of the fact that he could be injured, and looks a little shaken, fingers tapping an irregular rhythm on the bed.
"My mum lives here at the weyr, too," Nolee says, her shoulders squared. "And I still wrote a letter telling her what to do with my glass collection and my --other things," shifty eyes, "If something happened to me." She folds her hands, looking eagerly over them. "But it rarely happens, really. Nalaieth's the nicest dragon and I'm sure none of her offspring would ever even think about--" Her brows furrow, the words not ringing entirely true. "So, um," she shifts, nervously. "What would you tell them," this to Kaylon, "If there was a chance, you know?"
Kaylon eyeballs Nolee with more than a little suspicion. "That doesn't sound very.. uh.. reassuring, Ma'am. Begging your pardon and all." He carefully picks up the hide left on his bed, and the writing stick.
Moyra listens in, and finally, deciding what can be done is done with her robe, and shakes her head lightly. She is about to say something, but the comment from Nolee to herself is heeded, and she glances to Kaylon, "Oh, stop that, don't want us to think you are scared do you?"
Screeching up a storm, Balinne's entrance is preceded by her bloodied blue firelizard. No, it's not his blood, and his screeching and whirling is boastful, rather than in annoyance. Balinne soon follows, and she's a bit messy as well. Sighing, she mostly ignores the Goldrider as she heads for her cot. However, Moyra's comment is heard, and she cocks her head towards them. "Who's scared of what?" and then Nolee is noticed. "Ah! Hello Nolee, weyrwoman, ma'am."
Airalyn walks into the room talking to another female candidate. As she cross the threshold, she notices the goldrider in the room. Stopping dead in her tracks, the dusty blue eyed woman takes a quick glance around the room. "Afternoon ma'am." she says with a confused tone to her voice.
Kaylon lifts his chin with a hint of defiance and grunts Moyra's way, "An what if I am? You've been there before, can you say you're not a tiny bit nervous - whichever way things go?" It's with that same defiance he lifts his stick to hide and scribes a flourish along the top of it.
Bendel has been here the whole time, honestly. He's a quiet sort of person, and it's rather easy to look him over, especially when he's sitting on his cot hunched over a piece of hide he's writing on. "Why do I even bother writing this again? My parents live here..." There has to be some sort of logic.
Nolee gives Moyra a reassuring smile: after all, this isn't so new to her. The racket from the firelizard has her covering her ears, the hides remaining in her hands forming large, parchment ear-wing-things. She misses Kaylon's retort, more's the pity, and eventually lowers the hides as the lizard quiets. "Hunh? Oh, afternoon to you, too." Though she's clearly forgotten the other's name. "Just in case there's something you'd want to tell them," is to Bendel. "Like I told my mum that I accidentally broke her favorite necklace, not a firelizard. And that I never liked the shoes she gave me."
Balinne shushes Snap, allowing him to settle on her cot and get her sheets all nasty, so long as he's quiet. She rolls her eyes, and begins to rummage in her trunk. "What are you all writing letters for?" she asks, peering at the closest candidate (whoever that may be) for an explanation. She arches an eyebrow towards Nolee, and shakes her head. "Such a bad child," she teases.
Kaylon looks up from his hide, "I'm not confessing to nothing. They can just go on thinking what they do and wondering."
Bendel turns towards Nolee as he's addressed, "But I can tell them before we go on the sands? I speak to them every day or so..." He drifts off, turning back to stare at the blank piece of hide on his lap, as if willing for something to appear just by staring at it. "I have nothing to say...We're writing to our parents, in case something should happen on the sands." Right, like he's going to get eaten by some random hatchling thinking he's a herdbeast.
Balinne wrinkles her nose towards Bendel, though it's the letter-writting that's the reason. "I think I'm inclined to agree with you, Bendel. This seems wholly unneccessary for me. Especially considering my parents are dead." Therefore, she doesn't even bother to request a hide from Nolee, prefering to rummage in her trunk. "Aha! Found a tunic... now where are those sarongs..."
"I wasn't bad!" returns the weyrwoman indignantly, putting her hands on her hips and crinkling the hides as she does so. "I tended nasty fires for my pop and did all this other messy work." To the doubter, she shakes her head. "You don't have to write, of course. But last time, there was blood everywhere. And even M'yr got cut up by his -own- dragon." Her eyes widen, ghost story like. "You should see the scar! He's luck to be -alive.-" Ohhhh-oooo.
"I saw his scar!" Rilayen pipes up from his silent musings. "He showed me." He sounds proud of that fact, but then he adds, "Must've hurt."
Balinne does get somber a moment, and turns from where she is kneeling. "You know, Nolee, you're right. One girl got dragged out of my last hatching by a stretcher... I think she died." She shuddered at the memory. "Blood... everywhere."
Kaylon's eyes widen slightly. "Wow. That must've been something to see." There's something of awe in his voice.
Bendel arches a brow as the weyrwoman's story catches his ear, looking a little intruiged. "Hurt by his dragon? Why would his lifemate hurt him? I suppose it might not havedecided by then..." he gives a quick shrug, "I'll be happy when it's over, to tell you the truth. At least I'll let 'em know I love them, that's enough?"
"Airalyn" she says to Nolee as she finds herself a sit at her cot. Pulling out her robe and her sewing kit, the woman begins to thread the needle that was in the ornate box. Frowning at the goldrider's words, she looks up from her sewing. "I thought that was just talk to make us scared."
Nolee again folds her arms (and the last few hides, too) and looks smug as someone reports that M'yr's scar is, indeed, real. "I thought so, too, but then we all learned. I was standing right next to him, too! Holding his hand, even." She shakes her head, then swallows hard, the memory rather frightening. "So. You could also put in your letter something you'd like to read yourself, later? Like about your experience as a candidate, to look back on when you're older?" Yeah, that's it. Less ... gory.
Kaylon scribbles along his hide. "Ask me there isn't a whole lot of use for writing them. If I don't impress it's just going to prove to them I'm a failure. And if I do, well, it's not like I won't still be here, right? And they'll know."
Balinne holds up a bound, worn wherhide book. "Diary's are good things." But she's clearly not writting in it at the moment. Clothes are rapidly being tossed out of Balinne's cot, and she's getting annoyed. "Where IS that blue sarong! I want to get out of these nasty, bloody clothes," she grumps. "I smell like dead tunnelsnakes."
Balinne holds up a bound, worn wherhide book. "Diary's are good things." But she's clearly not writting in it at the moment. Clothes are rapidly being tossed out of Balinne's cot, and she's getting annoyed. "Where IS that blue sarong! I want to get out of these nasty, bloody clothes," she grumps. "I smell like dead tunnelsnakes."
Kaylon grins smugly Bali's way. "I had the afternoon off. Not even your mucking out to do. It was.. wonderful. I went for a swim. Soaked in the baths. Ate berry cakes in the living cavern. And nobody could tell me to do otherwise." Oh, yes, he's gloating.
A stained and probably smelly tunic is tossed Kaylon's direction, coming suspiciously from Balinne's trunk.
Bendel frowns a little as he starts writing again, giving a brief shrug to himself. "I suppose, I still think it's rather silly." But he's doing it anyway, so it mustn't be too silly, right? "Though I'm /sure/ my parents want to read about silly things." Sarcasim at its finest right there.
You say "Failure?" Nolee's arched brows raise notably. "Oh, that's not what it means at all. You'd rather have the right lifemate, right? And if yours it out there, they'll find you. If you don't get picked, maybe Nala failed to make the right one for you this time." A shrug. "Jays, you're messier than me." That to Balinne. "Hope there's no inspection scheduled, or you'll have extra laundry duty." A face: been there. "Ohh, I can't wait for Nalaieth to be able to leave so we can get to my favorite swimming holes again. So peaceful."
Airalyn mutters softly to herself and makes a few strong stitches in her robe.
Balinne wails, "I just want to take a bath!" from her spot by her trunk. She does give Nolee a critical look, and sighs. "You're right, and I really don't want laundry duty." So there's a pause in the searching, and her things are quickly gathered (except for that smelly one tossed to Kaylon).
Balinne giggles towards Kaylon. She does retrieve the smelly tunic and places it in a place of honour.. under her bed. She snorts, and finally gives up looking for her sarong. "I need a bath..." she comments, pulling at her current tunic and wincing.
Kaylon turns his attention upon Nolee. "Begging your pardon, Ma'am, but I think I know my parents better'n you do. They're pretty used to m e messing up."
Nolee perches on the edge of a free cot, near the pile of extra hides and styluses. "I wasn't threatening you," Nolee reasons toward Balinne. "I just know about heaps of things like that. I'sai was always making me draw extra lines in the sand." The point of that is unclear, and even she loses her tangent as she rises and walks down the rows, peering fascinatedly at whatever people are up to: letter writing, robe mending--the blood on Balinne draws a frown. "Maybe a spongebath? Dragonets could be drawn to blood. In a bad way. Like it's their first meal way."
Balinne shudders. "Well, it's mostly on my clothes, not on my skin, but yes, you're right." With that, she sighs, stands, and leaves the barracks. She'll return in a few moments with a small pail of water and a soft rag.
Kaylon chews on the end of his charcoal stick, then adds something to the hide in front of him, almost as an afterthought.
Caitlyn meanders in from the Bowl, smiling at her fellow Candidates, oggling the green blood on Balinne as she scoots away to wash herself clean. "Tunnelsnake duty, eh Bali?!" she calls out to the aide, seeing the other woman isn't hurt. And espies Snap the 'killer' lounging on the girl's cot... a very ichor-spotted Snap. "Eeeew..."
Balinne returns, as predicted, and begins to spong off the blood that's managed to hit her skin. It's all in normal, clothess areas like arms and legs, and her neck. She manages to do a decent job. A hand is raised towards Caitlyn, and she grins. "Ah, I don't mind," she replies, noticing the candidate's glance towards Snap. "So long as he's quiet again."
Kaylon signs his hide with a flourish and rolls it up. The charcoal stick is tossed unceremoniously onto the end of his cot. "Well, that's done. What's next? Oh, that's right. Nothing. I've got the afternoon off."
Airalyn looks up from her robe and frowns at Balinne. "Here let me help with that." Walking over to the other woman, she holds her hand out for the sponge.
Balinne frowns down at herself, but nods to Airalyn. "I think I got most of it," but she hands over the sponge. "Bucket's just got water in it. I didn't feel like making it soapy, or I'd need an additional rinse."
Caitlyn sticks her tongue out at Kaylon, then snickering at Balinne. "I have glow duty tonight, but i'm making the best out of my time off this afternoon. Good thing I have Book and Hider to help me..." The smith cranes her neck and sees Nolee, to whom she gives a grin and a wave. "Hello ma'am. Whatcha' doing in here? Looking for volunteers again?" A soft snicker of humor.
Rilayen is deeply involved in writing what appears to be a letter, being quiet except for the occasional low mutter as he scratches out a word. Every now and then his tongue flits out to wet his lips in a thinking gesture, often accompanied by a brief pause in writing before he gets back to the job with increased fervour.
Nolee nods almost relieved as Balinne agrees to tend to the blood, as one never knows when such things has hygiene in front of fresh dragons will prove useful. "Volunteers?" Nolee shakes her head. "Just leaving some writing supplies, in case anyone wants them." A somber nod, though she doesn't detail their purpose. "If any of you write, you could leave them near the front glowbasket? I'll come for them later and see they're delivered, or held, whatever your notes suggest."
Caitlyn gives Nolee a very obvious questioning look - her brows raised high - inviting the rider to offer urther information, if she so wishes. Brown eyes regard the intensive writing going on around her, then return to peering at Nolee.
Taking the sponge, Airalyn starts to work on Balinne's skin. Wiping each bloody spot carefully, the dusty blue eyed woman shakes her head. "So did /he/ do this on purpose."
Balinne shakes her head. "Snap? No, he's just over zealouse with tunnelsnakes, and the splatter." She shudders slightly. "I'm glad it was him and not me killing them... ugh."
Kaylon chuckles under his breath. "Aye, they are a bit gruesome, aren't they, Bali? I like to hit them with sticks. Nice *thwuck* sound."
Nolee stands there, brown eyes wide, utterly oblivious, until she figures out with an exclaimed 'oh!' why Caitlyn's staring at her. "Write a letter to your family in case you die," she summarizes, holding out the supplies, distracted by Airalyn helping to tidy Balinne in to a greater sense of safety. "What thwacks? Oh, yes, those. Right. Very satisfying." As if she's ever really done it herself. Then there's a frown, abrupt, and she's headed out. "Nah. Couldn't be. Really?" is muttered in surprise, and off she mysteriously goes.
Kaylon smirks at Nolee's departing back. "Can you picture her thwacking tunnel snakes?" He shakes his head disbelievingly.