But I'm [alone]
WHO: Rinna, Teris, Saliqa, Taikrin, Xeoshen
WHERE: Candidate Quarters, HRW
WHAT: Some papers are lost, some opinions shared. Then Cromite and lady crook get alone and things break down. A good cry is had.
Candidate Quarters, High Reaches Weyr
Two caverns lead one right into the other from a hallway just off the Common Room. Taking advantage of the high, vaulted ceiling, bunk beds march in four neat rows of five beds each allowing up to forty people to sleep in one cavern. Functional and spartan in atmosphere, there's little in the way of decoration here, just the one tapestry depicting a hatching on the wall of the first cavern and eggs on the sands in the second.
Each bunk is made up when there are candidates in residence, with standard sheeting, gray woollen blankets and somewhat lumpy pillows. A trunk stands at both the head and foot of the bunks, providing a little space for the occupants to store their belongings while the wait for the eggs to hatch. The archway between the two spaces is covered over with a hide hanging, easily hooked back when both caverns are in use, but tacked into place when only the first is needed. A proper wooden door closes out noise and drafts from the hallway.
Rinna's cot is neat. Painfully neat. Inhumanly neat. Which makes it all the odder that she's rummaging underneath it, getting dust in her hair and muttering to herself. When the underside shows nothing helpful, she starts digging through her pillowcase, then her sheets and blankets. Still nothing. So she asks the world in general. "Has anyone seen a sheet of vellum with a list of figures and sketches on it? My name's in the right-hand corner, and I need it."
Now that she's clean and doesn't smell like animal crap anymore, even if she put her nasty boots rather close to Gustav's cot, Teris is sitting on her cot toward the head in a comfortable sleeping outfit with a journal tucked into her cross-legged lap. She doesn't actually look up when someone starts talking but she does say, "No. But you really oughtn't leave that sort of thing laying around if you need it."
Rest days mean rest, right? Or, if you're Saliqa, they mean getting started on personal projects. Tucked up on her cot near some isolated corner of the room, she's bent studiously over a piece of hide. The painstaking pace at which her pen makes the letters speak to the lack of practice in making those forms. With a concentrated nibble on her lip, she seems quite in her own world. Some of that question gets through, though, and she makes an absent effort to glance at the floor by her feet. "Where did you last have it?"
Rinna is glaring at her cot as though it hid her figures out of some inanimate spite. "I left it right here while I ran out to the kitchens. Not fifteen minutes ago. It might have drifted under the bed, but I checked..." Nevertheless, she checks again, just in case. "Did anyone come in here that wasn't supposed to?" Because random note-thieves are rampant.
The blonde sitting on her cot that still hasn't looked up gives off no semblance of sympathy for the missing note. "They bring in new people all the time. How are we supposed to keep track of who is and isn't supposed to be in here? Not to mention that it's not entirely off limits to non-candidates." She's done this lecturing thing before, no doubt. Often, perhaps. Teris finally does glance up and over toward Rinna, however, letting out a long suffering sigh. "Are you positive that's where you put it? Look under the other cots. Anyone walking past could have set it off."
Taikrin has been here more or less all day, really, though she's been asleep off and on. But finally she seems to have roused; legs swing over the side of the bunk she's appropriated. She's steady on her legs today, though she still moves with an abnomally stiff mid-section. A quick pause to sweep her gaze around the room, and then she's off shuffling towards Saliqa's bunk with a jaw-cracking yawn. "Whacha doin'?" The convict leans against the frame of the bed, her posture unconcerned.
"Are you sure you didn't..." Saliqa's half-hearted attempts are easily drowned out by those lecturing ones of Teris', especially when the younger girl trails right off. Irritation starting to form a 'v' of wrinkles between her eyebrows, she sets her own things aside and seems intent on the area where Rinna is searching until movement nearby catches her attention away. "Hm? Oh, hello, Taikrin. Feeling better today? I don't suppose you've been up to see where this girl's stuff has gone..." She gestures openly thatta way, wiggling indecisively about standing or not now that the convict's there.
"I couldn't dig around under other peoples' cots! Faranth only knows what I'd find." Rinna sounds quite sure of herself, but she's already sneaking narrow-eyed glances into the shadows of the cots on either side. "Rinna, my name's Rinna. And you're Sal, and you're the girl who got herself rockslided, and you're..." So Teris hasn't done anything to imprint herself on Rinna's mind yet. It'll happen. She quickly peeks under someone's blankets. "It's not *vitally* important, just something I'm working on..."
Glancing over at Taikrin when she speaks, Teris just looks at her for a moment rather than saying anything to her, sympathy or otherwise. "If it's just fallen off, it's not as though it's going to be buried deep into someone else's stuff," Teris points out with another of those sighs that suggests she considers this basic logic. "Teris. I'm Teris."
"M'okay. Tired of sleepin'." Taikrin gives the now-usual one shouldered shrug. "What stuff?" Attention shifts towards Rinna, eyebrows knitting together. "I didn't take nothin'," is the almost reflexive protest. "Whatcha lookin' for, anyways? Uh. Rinna." The rather apt description given by the other girl is met with a bemused smile. "Guess I am. Taikrin, y'know."
"Yes, you have done a fair bit of that," Saliqa comments, on sleep, to the female convict with hints of bemusement before the sound of her name, or part of it, calls her once more to Rinna's location. "Nobody said you took anything," voice raising -- "It's Saliqa, actually..." The wondering on how she knew part goes unspoken but is clearly traceable in the questioning uplift of her tone. She winces slightly watching the girl. "You're digging, you know, in that person's cot now." Polite. Very 'just incase you weren't clear'.
Rinna knew that. Totally. She wasn't invading anyone's privacy. She yanks her hands out of the blankets and tries to smooth down the rumpled fabric. "Teris. Taikrin. Sal*iqa*. Sorry. There are so many names to remember, and rules, and...stuff." She tries a wobbly smile, and sits down--on her *own* cot, she makes sure of that. "I guess it will turn up. And I'm sure nobody took it. It's hardly valuable."
"Oh, for shards sake. Just look for it. It's not as though you're going to be taking anything from anyone. We're all here to make sure you don't," Teris says, glancing toward Saliqa as though she might mean her in particular. Just a little bit. But then she's studying Taikrin again. That lasts for a few moments, then she notes, "You're the one that might get kicked out, aren't you? That one boy. Xeo-something. He thinks you'll impress that gold sitting out there." Which, oddly, makes her grin. "I don't remember what you did?" is offered as an inquiring demand. She wants to know why Taikrin was convicted.
"I did not say I thought she would impress gold, I /said/ it would be ironic if a con did impress gold, though I doubt it'll happen." Xeoshen remarks toward Teris as he wanders in. "And I still think it aint gonna happen, just like me and Brenoran impressin' bronze is never gonna happen." Because convicts aren't good enough for the shiney dragons, obviously, atleast in his eyes.
Taikrin scrubs her free hand through her oddly-lengthed hair, bemusement remaining. "Oh. Well. S'long as we're clear." A glance is shot sidelong at Saliqa, and her mouth is opened to make some comment or another, before it snaps shut again at Teris' statement. "Kicked out?" Her lips twist downward in a growing scowl. "Who told y'that? Weyrwoman said I got plenty o'right t'be here, even if-- he /what/?!" As whatever it was that Xeoshen said finally sinks in, her jaw drops in surprise. "He said /that/? I'm gonna--" Xeoshen's fortuitous arrival probably spares him a nasty talking-to later on, though there's more than a hint of warning in her voice. "Xeo. What you been sayin' about me?"
Rinna is a bit curious too, but she's not brave enough to ask Taikrin outright. Should have taken advantage of her during the rockslide to pry truth out of her. In fact, she's completely out of the gossip loop, and so huddles rather meekly on her bunk as Taikrin starts looking annoyed. "'Ironic' isn't a bad thing," she offers. "In your case it means 'unexpected'." Maybe that helps?
Saliqa accepts the look from Teris mostly because she's already eyeballing the other girl as much as can be chocked up to polite curiosity. "Pawing through someone's things isn't just rude if you take something." It's a quick flicker of attention between Taikrin and Teris now, though. Pushing off from her cot, fingers kneading the air warily, she appears loathe to move too far away from the female convict but eventually does so, picking her way to where Rinna sits. As she passes by Xeoshen's entrance, she notes, "If we listened to that kind of talk around here, there'd be a gold for everyone." Then, pulling up by Rinna, "So what was on it? What you lost?"
"Oh, don't act as though that's not exactly what you want," Teris says airly. For what could be a rather nasty comment, there's not any real hint of venom or judgment in her voice. "That would make some harper a very happy man. Writing ballads about the convict turned Weyrwoman," she waves one hand vaguely elsewhere. Presumably toward some harper that is elsewhere. Notably Teris is ignoring Xeoshen entirely except that she offers an opinion on his words to everyone else as her visual attention returns to the journal in her lap, "Stupid people, immoral people and good people alike all impress dragons of every color. It's awfully foolish to think otherwise."
"Or any of the other male cons that've been searched impressing bronze." Xeoshen amends, and shrugs. "Yeah well, I'll think otherwise when it happens." He says to Teris, and then rolls eyes at Taikrin. "I aint been sayin' nothin' about you, /she's/ spreading crap that aint true." He grunts, and heads for his own cot.
Rinna is torn between watching the developing Teris/Taikrin deathmatch and her original, less violent goal. "It's a sheet of vellum," she tells Saliqa, "and it's got sketches on it--mostly of the Star Stones--and notes and figures in the margins. I need to copy it out so I can return it to...oh *shells*, the storage rooms, I was in there getting charcoal sticks!" She'd apologize to everyone, but they're all distracted. So she smiles apologetically at Saliqa and darts outside.
"I ain't lookin' fer nothin' but a bed an' hot food." Taikrin declares hotly, obviously irritated. "Some honest work 'till the spring. Ain't expectin' nothin' else, me." She shifts her glower from Teris to whatever other young, female candidates happen to be in the room, then back again. "So y'all just make sure y'got that straight. My life ain't no harper's tale." The casted arm is brandished at Xeoshen; apparently Taikrin is not mollified by his explanation. "You just make sure y'ain't spreading tales. Got enough problems, me."
Then there goes Rinna, leaving Saliqa hovering near an empty cot and with no choice but to listen in on the other conversation brewing elsewhere. An innocently delivered, "You'll awfully cynical about the whole thing. A bad experience?" towards Teris is offered before she's stepping right back to her own cot. Here she reaches out to pat fingers lightly against Taikrin's good arm before she regains her seat. "Tell me more about honest work. Have you thought on what you'll try and do after this? Barring other circumstances, however likely or unlikely. I don't want to get into that argument again."
"What did you do?" Teris repeats, glancing up and over toward the injured girl again. She continues to ignore Xeoshen for the most part and any implications that she's spreading falsehoods. "And what are you going to do if you /do/ impress the gold? Or any of those dragons out there. If you impress, you'll be getting a lot more than a bed and hot food. And a lot more will be expected of you." Saliqa draws her attention, then, and Teris eyes her irritably as she snaps, "That's none of your sharding business."
Two can play the ignoring game, thus, Xeoshen ignores Teris in return. "I aint spreain' tales, why the shell would I do that?" He asks, irritably. "Hot food, a bed, and a job that don't involve going underground, would be good fer me after I get released." He admits, and moves to sit on the cot that's under his, which is currently empty, as the powners just not there right now.
"I ain't got any plans," Taikrin declares, rather crossly. "Impress, not impress, whatever. Spring comes, I'll worry about it then." She shifts her weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably, though the glower lessens somewhat at Saliqa's gesture. "See once I get this thing off. I ain't goin' back in the tunnels again. Guy I was down there with... he talked about a farm." She goes quiet for a moment, but when she speaks again it's with redoubled fervor. "I dunno. Somethin'll come up. I ain't gonna worry 'bout that now when I already got a plenty good gig here. More'r less."
A sleepy voice from the back of the room suddenly calls out, "'Ware th'jib! 'Ware the... man overBOARD!" and a candidate tosses once in their sleep, making their cot squeak alarmingly, before lapsing back into silence.
She could ignore Teris; Saliqa certainly gets a good start at it with her pleasantly interested gaze focused on Taikrin and her hands resting most comfortably in her lap. But then she raises one of those hands to signal the convict to wait a moment and then her body twists just slightly back at the blonde. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry," she calls over, the fingers now pressing sincerely against her chest, "I mistakenly thought others' business and blunt questions was your thing, you see." She flashes a bashful close-mouthed smile that's not quite genuine enough to continue the stunt. That's probably why, throat clearing and anxious eyes later, she's struggling to return to the other conversation. "I'm sorry, you had a... a farm?" And someone's on a boat?
The sudden calling out is unexpected enough to draw Teris' gaze that way with a little start of surprise. But she's quick to look back Saliqa-wards with a well-practiced glare. That tension in her face makes it clear enough that she doesn't appreciate getting what she gives at all. But since everyone's content to press her out of the conversation, she returns her attention to her journal, the motions of her hand as she writes more earnest now.
Saliqa, standing up for her? It boggles the mind. Taikrin obviously isn't sure what to make of this new situation; she's obediently quiet when indicated, though more out of startlement than anything else. Eyebrows knit together as the convict glances from Teris to Saliqa and back again, before she sputters out in Teris' general direction, "Uh. Yeah!" A hint of grudging respect enters her dark gaze as Saliqa continues, and she's even comfortable enough to perch on the very farthest corner of her cot. "Uh. No, I ain't had one. One of th' guys said he worked on one. Said it was nice." A pause, then louder, towards Xeoshen, " Oi Xeo, you remember his name? Bovines, wasn't it?" Voice lowers again, with a somewhat somber admittence. "Didn't make it, see. Can't ask 'im."
Xeoshen just sits and listens quietly for a moment as the girls talk, not like they seemed to be hearing him anyway. He then looks up as Tai adresses him. "Ah, uh, Deruan I think it was, he was the one that got his leg caught under a boulder, right?" Poor guy, what a bad way to die indeed.
It boggles Saliqa's mind, too, if her too-wide eyes for the next several seconds is any indication and she strictly refrains from glancing to see if there's any physical reaction from Teris since silence seems to be prevailing from that corner. Her face displays her usual neutral, though it's possible she's halfway to following that all up with a blurted apology, when the solemn news distracts her. "That's terrible..." She shudders all up and down at Xeoshen's elaboration before pressing palms to blankets to regain calm. "I have fond memories of farms. Grew up on one. That work makes me think of my father-- did she look /very/ offended, Teris?-- no, no, wait, don't look. Don't stare." Regardless of whether or not Taikrin looks like she even cares, the girl bats her hands dismissing, voice purposefully too low to carry around the room now.
Silence continues though Teris does glance over that way briefly when Taikrin joins in the movement against her, however marginally. Regardless, she does start moving herself to her feet, slipping on slippers and gathering up her things so that she can, presumably, go find somewhere more quiet to do whatever it is that she's doing. It's not rushed or anything, but it is a rather purposeful way that she heads out toward the commons.
Telling Taikrin not to look at Teris is apparently tantamount to demanding she look /right now/, given the way she cranes her neck to eyeball the other woman. "I dunno, guess not--" She breaks off the rubberneck-ish stare with a start upon being called on it, returning her attention to Saliqa with a hint of embarrasment. "But. Uh. What was I sayin'?" A pause, then, she tilts her head back towards Xeoshen. "Right, Deruan. Sounds right." Sigh. "That was 'im. Anyways... maybe a farm might not be so bad. Somewhere warmer'n here."
Xeoshen nods. "He never freaked out though, just for the most part stayed calm, and then just went to sleep." And never woke up, they can only imagine the pain the man must of been in, even if he didn't seem to show any. He snorts. "Aye, a farm might not be bad, smelly though." He says, and then gets up, to climb up to his cot, and lay down. "I heard what they're gonna do to us finally, aparently us that were searched, they aint gonna send back to work on the project, instead we gonna be cleanin', and junk." Oh fun stuff.
Since Saliqa is pointedly ignoring that side of the room now, she misses any comings and goings, and with her hurried berating bringing Taikrin back around, she stays none the wiser. "It's a good smell," is offered to Xeoshen, a little laugh bubbling to her lips, "Of honest, hard work. I-- I guess I miss it sometimes." Her eyelids flutter warningly; she quiets some, "A farm you can really get into." She tries to retreat some onto her cot, but finds that the older girl is there. The smile she tries to offer turns incredulous too fast. "So that's what they've decided? I was wondering. A shame, so close to your sentences."
"Weyrwoman said she didn't want candidates missin' arms an' legs on the sands." Taikrin's cast-bearing arm is wiggled again. "Said her eggs was too good t'have broken candidates." She shrugs, unconcerned about missing out on the end of her sentence. "Not like I was gonna do much good down there now, anyways." A deadly serious note enters her voice. "I ain't never goin' back in there. I ain't gonna end like my da." This is possibly the most personal thing Taikrin has ever volunteered to anybody in the Weyr, and she makes a point of hurrying on afterwards. "Cleanin' an' muckin' an' stuff, that's what she told me. Still hard work. Plannin' on bein' /alive/ t'appreciate the end of my sentence, me."
Xeoshen nods. "Ay, I can agree ta that." He says, and grimaces at the memory. "I'll be happy ta never have ta go there again." He agrees, and sighs. "Mmm, cleaning, dishes, stables, latrines, lovely work." He remarks, and moves to sit up in his cot again, letting his legs dangle over the side. "Aye, true, it is a good smell, I may have ta look into it as well if I dun find ma dragon out on the sands."
Saliqa puts up a hand to insist but that note in the convict's voice brings it down again, ducking away to hide that it ever tried. Then that hand sort of shuffles along the cot's wrinkled blankets to venture at brushing Taikrin's fingers. "I'm glad you're both alright," she finally decides upon, though nothing lessens the severe downward pitch of her eyebrows quite yet: a mark of her lingering want to protest more. "Work is, after all, still work. I just hope it goes right by those left to finish the tunnels." Readjusting herself slightly, she pulls one leg under her skirts and onto the cot. "If you don't find your dragon," thoughtfully echoed off Xeoshen, "People talk about it so differently. Being certain or not. I just hope to do my best out there, see it done how my Lord wishes."
"Few of them was talkin' about tryin' t'get back t'Crom. Mines there're a bit safer, anyways." If Taikrin noticed the finger-brush, she doesn't show it. Or, perhaps, she shows it by not showing anything at all: her gaze suddenly fixes on Xeoshen as if he were the most fascinating thing in the world. "Don't think it's bein' certain, y'know. My ma said it helps if y'eat a lot of red meat, beforehand. Makes y'more attractive to'em. Or, y'know, shows 'em yer strong. She said y'just had t'get their attention right. None o'that touchy-feely stuff."
Xeoshen nods. "Aye, atleast in Crom they know how ta make a half way decent tunnel." Oh sure, almost turns in there, and he's acting like a pro at what they should be, yeah right. "I aint thinkin' it's certain, I'm being realistic, I mean look at how many have been searched." He does a vague waving of his hands around at the barracks, and various occupied cots. "There's more people here then there are eggs, the odds aint good." He says, and then snorts. "Eat alot of red meat, right, I'll remember that." He says. "Strong, right, I think most of are pretty strong."
"I didn't mean being certain was what sealed the deal," to Taikrin, "Or that it's a good or bad thing," to Xeoshen, "Just that some are saying it of themselves." Saliqa is quick to make sure everything's kosher. After that frosty lack of response, her hands are notably keeping to her own personal space, winding together in her lap or smoothing out random folds of her cot. "Eat red meat?" Yeah, she's clearly skeptical, watching the convict's face for some sign of joking. "Is this like the opinion that the queen dragon has it all planned out?" Even so saying, she raises an arm in front of her, experimentally eyeing the soft curves of her upper arm that, when flexed, react very little. Quickly, the arm drops. "Well, there's different /kinds/ of strong."
"Hatchlings eat red meat. Only makes sense." Taikrin eyes Saliqa's arm appraisingly, then allows, "Well, y'got a coupl'a months still t'work on it. Dragonriders gotta have a lot of muscle, y'know. 'Specially up here." For illustration, Taikrin's left arm is flexed to reveal more wiry muscle than could really be considered proper for a girl. "And she /does/ got some of it planned out, y'know. S'how she sends the search dragons out." Clearly, Taikrin is not joking: her expression is all seriousness. "Here, look. What sorta exercises does a girl like you do?"
Xeoshen nods. "Aye, true, they do." He says, and snorts. "Work in the mines a while, you'll build muscle quick." He chuckles, and flexes his own muscles for a moment, which are pretty good for a guys muscles. He then climbs down from his cot. "I think I'm gonna go see if they got any dessert in the caverns, see you guys later." He says, and heads out of the quarters.
At the sight of the other two's arms, Saliqa crosses her arm, hands wrapping around those fleshy curves of hers. "S'not right, getting me all worked out," she opposes with affected loftiness, despite the previous show of checking her muscles -- or lack thereof. "Don't think the man my stepfather found will app... rove." She hears the words for the first time even as she says them, eyes wide with a certain vulnerability having nothing to do with skin and bones. She shakes her head fiercely. "Umm, whatever," over the issue of what the dragons do, "Exercises? Well-- they've got me doing chores." A glance for clarification; that works, right? "Exercises sounds like a man's thing."
"What's not right about it? Ain't nothin' righter than bein' able t'take care of yerself." The talk of a man has Taikrin giving Saliqa the old wooly eye. "'Specially if there's a man involved. How're ya gonna protect yerself if he gets ideas?" Weakness spotted, Taikrin bulls onwards into the face of Saliqa's insecurity. "Ain't nothin' manly 'bout workin' some t'keep yer body strong. It's just common sense, like."
Saliqa snaps up some confidence in saying, "Any man chosen for me doesn't 'get ideas', Taikrin. He's a gentleman and he'll take care of me and we'll be m-married!" Watch the stutter. She's a bit cornered, especially tucked up on her cot with the convict so close by. "Unless the baby queen sees fit to notice me-- that's what I'm supposed to do." Her hands pick at her skirts, settling them about her pulled up legs all prettily. "Duty by my home, duty by my lord. None of it says I should have upper body strength."
"Gentleman, huh. So-- where is he?" Taikrin gestures to the room at large with her good hand. "He ain't here t'protect you. An' y'shouldn't rely on him anyways." The last is added with a sharp nod. Abruptly, her voice lowers into a conspiritorial whisper. "We got some not-too-nice sort in here, me included. Dragons apparently ain't real great judge of character. What're you gonna do if a sort like, uh, Trahalor, gets ideas? Duty t'yer lord or whatever says y'gotta stay safe, right?" There's a faint flush of color rising in her cheeks, and her voice, while low, is quite urgent; this is apparently a topic she feels quite strongly about.
Hands dropping to either side, Saliqa leans back self-consciously from the force of that urgency, as if Taikrin were using this to get into her face. "There's guards here to make sure of none of that. That's /their/ duty, protecting. It's all well and good, but as a woman, that's not my place. It's not. It's--" some little flustered hand movement, the reflexive jerk up of her chin as she prepares to tread the moral high-ground. "As for m'lord, he's... well. Not /exactly/ m'lord yet-- It's difficult, what with me not going home. Not that I don't want to get ma-- You know, I don't really want to talk about this anymore." Which should, apparently, cause the conversation to instantly stop. Magic words.
"But what if y'get caught on yer own? Crossin' the bowl, maybe, or doin' chores in the stables? The other lot's gettin' mighty restless." Taikrin's voice remains low, but her expression becomes terribly grim. "Had t'teach one of 'em who's boss coupl'a days passed, and they /know better/ with me. I hate t'think you--" She breaks off, suddenly embarrased, and leans stiffly back out of Saliqa's personal space at the rebuke. Her gaze drops, flicking from place to place for a moment before settling on the cot just beyond the other girl. Finaly, she half-mumbles, "Just hate t'think y'might get hurt, what with all this m'lord talk. Ain't right."
Saliqa remains flustered long after she's gained the full use of her cot; those legs remain tucked close to her, arms working between wrapping around her knees and letting her hands fuss at her hair. She spends a good deal of time brushing the black strands this way and that. The movement only half-covers the noise of her own slightly choked-up breathing. "I don't-- I don't think about that kind of thing. Not the kind of proper thoughts for a girl to have. But... but you keep bringing it up-- and I get these /images/," sniff, head-shake; "And this never happened at home. But I don't get to go home. I'm-- I'm all alone here." Hiccuping forcefully to hold in the worst of the emotional display, she seeks solace in breaking out the pleasantries: "But i-it's very kind of you to show concern."
"Wha-- hey! No! Don't cry!" Taikrin's voice rises with sudden panic. Her gaze darts wildly around the barracks, but apparently sees nobody who can come and rescue her from impending disaster. "Hey-- I didn't-- /please/ don't cry!" A tentative hand comes up to pat Saliqa's shoulder in a move that screams of awkwardness. "Y'ain't alone here, look, see, there's all these, uh, nice proper girls, an'--, uh... I just--" Still hopelessly floundering, she finally offers, "If it'll make y'feel better, I'll just, uh, I'll help you. If y'like. Keep an eye out, maybe."
The hand-pat is apparently so absurd that it causes Saliqa to break out into a round of hysterically inappropriate giggles. Her own gestures to rub the back of her hands against her eyes or to compulsively keep fixing a skirt that's perfectly in place are frantic, desperate to keep up appearances even if that ship has long sailed. "It's not-- it's just not the same!" She informs hopelessly, "They were /supposed/ to be my friends and now they /hate/ me and my father /hates/ me and all I ever wanted to do is make him proud. A-And-- And I think if I don't impress they'll never trust me again." She sucks in last desperate breath, thankfully silent at the sound of Taikrin's proposal. Cautiously, sniffling up the last of her outburst, she angles herself to look at the other girl. "... You'll help me."
Taikrin is not any more comfortable with the hysterical giggles than she was with the tears: the hand withdraws almost at once, as if burned, to wrap tightly around her midsection. "I'm, uh, I'm sure they don't hate you. Nice girl like you? Maybe they're, uh... jealous. Or somethin'." For just a moment she perks, latching on to her favorite last resort: anger. "An' if they don't approve, screw 'em! They ain't got no call, makin' y'feel that way! Ain't proper, treatin' family like that!" Just as quick as it appeared, though, the anger subsides back into Taikrin's own unique brand of helplessness. "Uh. Sure. I guess. Yeah. You know, watch yer back. Maybe teach you some'at might help."
Saliqa's head tilts in contemplative calm, for the first time in the last painful minutes; that's the effect hearing her own wording coming from the convict has. Ain't proper. "But-- but it's my responsibility... to do right by him..." She voices it curiously, investigating the words as they come out. And her eyes have started latching onto Taikrin like she's a lifeboat. There's a scoot forward on the cot, her tensed curl unfurling somewhat, easing shoulders down where they've become stiff. "You know, I... I /was/ starting to think it time to learn a bit more. About the Weyr. Living here. Never," she giggles again, less crazy-like, "Never really thought it'd be from a lady crook." The air's lighter at least, and her hands are starting to fold less nervously in front of her. Well. Not quite. She still has to screw up the courage to really gaze at Taikrin and say, "... Maybe the dragons aren't such bad judges... after all."
"Always good t'learn..." Saliqa may have /appeared/ to have calmed, but Taikrin doesn't trust it. Girls are crazy, after all. "'Lady crook'. Pretty sure I ain't never been called that before." Ever so slowly, though, some of the stiffness in her spine gives way. "I know some stuff. Not so much 'bout fancy things." There's the one-shouldered shrug again. "Just, y'know, livin' stuff." The other's girls last comment /is/ distinctly embarrasing: Taikrin's cheeks flush with color, and she just has to look around to make sure nobody's overhearing all this horrible, awful mushiness. "Yeah. Well. Uh." Her hand scrubs through her poorly-shorn hair as Taikrin searches for words. "Just don't like t'see girls cry, is all."
At least for Taikrin's sake, Saliqa's relaxation seems to be holding. Though we can do nothing about the sap; that's just there. "Well," the girl decides, "Can't say that living isn't my place." Her lower lip rolls into her mouth so she can clamp down on any smiling at the other's expense during that embarrassment. All that crying must've leaked out some of that proper hold breeding, though, because her eyes are a'glimmer with not just freshly fought tears but a hint of mischief. Rocking forward, she ogles the convict a bit skeptically, and a bit teasingly for that last part. "How inappropriately gallant of you." Because men are gallant. And girls don't... -- but anyway, she gets to her feet right after, dabbing at the corners of her face self-consciously now. "But I should go now. Freshen up."
"It, uh, it's good. But... yeah." Taikrin continues to flounder helplessly in all the estrogen that seems to be flying around now. Her jaw clamps shut, briefly, as she only /just/ manages to hold back a defensive snap in retaliation for the sudden bout of teasing. "I, uh, I try?" She rockets awkwardly to her feet just after Saliqa rises, complete with gasp of breath at the injudicious movement. "Yeah, y'should do that, uh, yer all--" Jaw snaps shut again on what would probably have been a wildly inappropriate comment, the flush of embarrasment growing steadily brighter. "I'll just let y'go an' do that, uh, lady thing. Whatever." Her hand rotates at the wrist, describing a terribly confused circle. "I'm just-- I'm gonna be on my bunk. If, y'know, somethin' happens. Yeah."
Saliqa stands there long enough to stare through whatever Taikrin has to say on the matter. Then, she hiccups again. Half laughing, half sniffing, she demonstrates several nods of understanding, gestures vaguely in the direction of the convict's bunk -- her correct bunk, not that one she totally just used anyway -- then spins about on her heels and marches promptly and faux-proudly off to do whatever 'freshening up' even is.
WHERE: Candidate Quarters, HRW
WHAT: Some papers are lost, some opinions shared. Then Cromite and lady crook get alone and things break down. A good cry is had.
Candidate Quarters, High Reaches Weyr
Two caverns lead one right into the other from a hallway just off the Common Room. Taking advantage of the high, vaulted ceiling, bunk beds march in four neat rows of five beds each allowing up to forty people to sleep in one cavern. Functional and spartan in atmosphere, there's little in the way of decoration here, just the one tapestry depicting a hatching on the wall of the first cavern and eggs on the sands in the second.
Each bunk is made up when there are candidates in residence, with standard sheeting, gray woollen blankets and somewhat lumpy pillows. A trunk stands at both the head and foot of the bunks, providing a little space for the occupants to store their belongings while the wait for the eggs to hatch. The archway between the two spaces is covered over with a hide hanging, easily hooked back when both caverns are in use, but tacked into place when only the first is needed. A proper wooden door closes out noise and drafts from the hallway.
Rinna's cot is neat. Painfully neat. Inhumanly neat. Which makes it all the odder that she's rummaging underneath it, getting dust in her hair and muttering to herself. When the underside shows nothing helpful, she starts digging through her pillowcase, then her sheets and blankets. Still nothing. So she asks the world in general. "Has anyone seen a sheet of vellum with a list of figures and sketches on it? My name's in the right-hand corner, and I need it."
Now that she's clean and doesn't smell like animal crap anymore, even if she put her nasty boots rather close to Gustav's cot, Teris is sitting on her cot toward the head in a comfortable sleeping outfit with a journal tucked into her cross-legged lap. She doesn't actually look up when someone starts talking but she does say, "No. But you really oughtn't leave that sort of thing laying around if you need it."
Rest days mean rest, right? Or, if you're Saliqa, they mean getting started on personal projects. Tucked up on her cot near some isolated corner of the room, she's bent studiously over a piece of hide. The painstaking pace at which her pen makes the letters speak to the lack of practice in making those forms. With a concentrated nibble on her lip, she seems quite in her own world. Some of that question gets through, though, and she makes an absent effort to glance at the floor by her feet. "Where did you last have it?"
Rinna is glaring at her cot as though it hid her figures out of some inanimate spite. "I left it right here while I ran out to the kitchens. Not fifteen minutes ago. It might have drifted under the bed, but I checked..." Nevertheless, she checks again, just in case. "Did anyone come in here that wasn't supposed to?" Because random note-thieves are rampant.
The blonde sitting on her cot that still hasn't looked up gives off no semblance of sympathy for the missing note. "They bring in new people all the time. How are we supposed to keep track of who is and isn't supposed to be in here? Not to mention that it's not entirely off limits to non-candidates." She's done this lecturing thing before, no doubt. Often, perhaps. Teris finally does glance up and over toward Rinna, however, letting out a long suffering sigh. "Are you positive that's where you put it? Look under the other cots. Anyone walking past could have set it off."
Taikrin has been here more or less all day, really, though she's been asleep off and on. But finally she seems to have roused; legs swing over the side of the bunk she's appropriated. She's steady on her legs today, though she still moves with an abnomally stiff mid-section. A quick pause to sweep her gaze around the room, and then she's off shuffling towards Saliqa's bunk with a jaw-cracking yawn. "Whacha doin'?" The convict leans against the frame of the bed, her posture unconcerned.
"Are you sure you didn't..." Saliqa's half-hearted attempts are easily drowned out by those lecturing ones of Teris', especially when the younger girl trails right off. Irritation starting to form a 'v' of wrinkles between her eyebrows, she sets her own things aside and seems intent on the area where Rinna is searching until movement nearby catches her attention away. "Hm? Oh, hello, Taikrin. Feeling better today? I don't suppose you've been up to see where this girl's stuff has gone..." She gestures openly thatta way, wiggling indecisively about standing or not now that the convict's there.
"I couldn't dig around under other peoples' cots! Faranth only knows what I'd find." Rinna sounds quite sure of herself, but she's already sneaking narrow-eyed glances into the shadows of the cots on either side. "Rinna, my name's Rinna. And you're Sal, and you're the girl who got herself rockslided, and you're..." So Teris hasn't done anything to imprint herself on Rinna's mind yet. It'll happen. She quickly peeks under someone's blankets. "It's not *vitally* important, just something I'm working on..."
Glancing over at Taikrin when she speaks, Teris just looks at her for a moment rather than saying anything to her, sympathy or otherwise. "If it's just fallen off, it's not as though it's going to be buried deep into someone else's stuff," Teris points out with another of those sighs that suggests she considers this basic logic. "Teris. I'm Teris."
"M'okay. Tired of sleepin'." Taikrin gives the now-usual one shouldered shrug. "What stuff?" Attention shifts towards Rinna, eyebrows knitting together. "I didn't take nothin'," is the almost reflexive protest. "Whatcha lookin' for, anyways? Uh. Rinna." The rather apt description given by the other girl is met with a bemused smile. "Guess I am. Taikrin, y'know."
"Yes, you have done a fair bit of that," Saliqa comments, on sleep, to the female convict with hints of bemusement before the sound of her name, or part of it, calls her once more to Rinna's location. "Nobody said you took anything," voice raising -- "It's Saliqa, actually..." The wondering on how she knew part goes unspoken but is clearly traceable in the questioning uplift of her tone. She winces slightly watching the girl. "You're digging, you know, in that person's cot now." Polite. Very 'just incase you weren't clear'.
Rinna knew that. Totally. She wasn't invading anyone's privacy. She yanks her hands out of the blankets and tries to smooth down the rumpled fabric. "Teris. Taikrin. Sal*iqa*. Sorry. There are so many names to remember, and rules, and...stuff." She tries a wobbly smile, and sits down--on her *own* cot, she makes sure of that. "I guess it will turn up. And I'm sure nobody took it. It's hardly valuable."
"Oh, for shards sake. Just look for it. It's not as though you're going to be taking anything from anyone. We're all here to make sure you don't," Teris says, glancing toward Saliqa as though she might mean her in particular. Just a little bit. But then she's studying Taikrin again. That lasts for a few moments, then she notes, "You're the one that might get kicked out, aren't you? That one boy. Xeo-something. He thinks you'll impress that gold sitting out there." Which, oddly, makes her grin. "I don't remember what you did?" is offered as an inquiring demand. She wants to know why Taikrin was convicted.
"I did not say I thought she would impress gold, I /said/ it would be ironic if a con did impress gold, though I doubt it'll happen." Xeoshen remarks toward Teris as he wanders in. "And I still think it aint gonna happen, just like me and Brenoran impressin' bronze is never gonna happen." Because convicts aren't good enough for the shiney dragons, obviously, atleast in his eyes.
Taikrin scrubs her free hand through her oddly-lengthed hair, bemusement remaining. "Oh. Well. S'long as we're clear." A glance is shot sidelong at Saliqa, and her mouth is opened to make some comment or another, before it snaps shut again at Teris' statement. "Kicked out?" Her lips twist downward in a growing scowl. "Who told y'that? Weyrwoman said I got plenty o'right t'be here, even if-- he /what/?!" As whatever it was that Xeoshen said finally sinks in, her jaw drops in surprise. "He said /that/? I'm gonna--" Xeoshen's fortuitous arrival probably spares him a nasty talking-to later on, though there's more than a hint of warning in her voice. "Xeo. What you been sayin' about me?"
Rinna is a bit curious too, but she's not brave enough to ask Taikrin outright. Should have taken advantage of her during the rockslide to pry truth out of her. In fact, she's completely out of the gossip loop, and so huddles rather meekly on her bunk as Taikrin starts looking annoyed. "'Ironic' isn't a bad thing," she offers. "In your case it means 'unexpected'." Maybe that helps?
Saliqa accepts the look from Teris mostly because she's already eyeballing the other girl as much as can be chocked up to polite curiosity. "Pawing through someone's things isn't just rude if you take something." It's a quick flicker of attention between Taikrin and Teris now, though. Pushing off from her cot, fingers kneading the air warily, she appears loathe to move too far away from the female convict but eventually does so, picking her way to where Rinna sits. As she passes by Xeoshen's entrance, she notes, "If we listened to that kind of talk around here, there'd be a gold for everyone." Then, pulling up by Rinna, "So what was on it? What you lost?"
"Oh, don't act as though that's not exactly what you want," Teris says airly. For what could be a rather nasty comment, there's not any real hint of venom or judgment in her voice. "That would make some harper a very happy man. Writing ballads about the convict turned Weyrwoman," she waves one hand vaguely elsewhere. Presumably toward some harper that is elsewhere. Notably Teris is ignoring Xeoshen entirely except that she offers an opinion on his words to everyone else as her visual attention returns to the journal in her lap, "Stupid people, immoral people and good people alike all impress dragons of every color. It's awfully foolish to think otherwise."
"Or any of the other male cons that've been searched impressing bronze." Xeoshen amends, and shrugs. "Yeah well, I'll think otherwise when it happens." He says to Teris, and then rolls eyes at Taikrin. "I aint been sayin' nothin' about you, /she's/ spreading crap that aint true." He grunts, and heads for his own cot.
Rinna is torn between watching the developing Teris/Taikrin deathmatch and her original, less violent goal. "It's a sheet of vellum," she tells Saliqa, "and it's got sketches on it--mostly of the Star Stones--and notes and figures in the margins. I need to copy it out so I can return it to...oh *shells*, the storage rooms, I was in there getting charcoal sticks!" She'd apologize to everyone, but they're all distracted. So she smiles apologetically at Saliqa and darts outside.
"I ain't lookin' fer nothin' but a bed an' hot food." Taikrin declares hotly, obviously irritated. "Some honest work 'till the spring. Ain't expectin' nothin' else, me." She shifts her glower from Teris to whatever other young, female candidates happen to be in the room, then back again. "So y'all just make sure y'got that straight. My life ain't no harper's tale." The casted arm is brandished at Xeoshen; apparently Taikrin is not mollified by his explanation. "You just make sure y'ain't spreading tales. Got enough problems, me."
Then there goes Rinna, leaving Saliqa hovering near an empty cot and with no choice but to listen in on the other conversation brewing elsewhere. An innocently delivered, "You'll awfully cynical about the whole thing. A bad experience?" towards Teris is offered before she's stepping right back to her own cot. Here she reaches out to pat fingers lightly against Taikrin's good arm before she regains her seat. "Tell me more about honest work. Have you thought on what you'll try and do after this? Barring other circumstances, however likely or unlikely. I don't want to get into that argument again."
"What did you do?" Teris repeats, glancing up and over toward the injured girl again. She continues to ignore Xeoshen for the most part and any implications that she's spreading falsehoods. "And what are you going to do if you /do/ impress the gold? Or any of those dragons out there. If you impress, you'll be getting a lot more than a bed and hot food. And a lot more will be expected of you." Saliqa draws her attention, then, and Teris eyes her irritably as she snaps, "That's none of your sharding business."
Two can play the ignoring game, thus, Xeoshen ignores Teris in return. "I aint spreain' tales, why the shell would I do that?" He asks, irritably. "Hot food, a bed, and a job that don't involve going underground, would be good fer me after I get released." He admits, and moves to sit on the cot that's under his, which is currently empty, as the powners just not there right now.
"I ain't got any plans," Taikrin declares, rather crossly. "Impress, not impress, whatever. Spring comes, I'll worry about it then." She shifts her weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably, though the glower lessens somewhat at Saliqa's gesture. "See once I get this thing off. I ain't goin' back in the tunnels again. Guy I was down there with... he talked about a farm." She goes quiet for a moment, but when she speaks again it's with redoubled fervor. "I dunno. Somethin'll come up. I ain't gonna worry 'bout that now when I already got a plenty good gig here. More'r less."
A sleepy voice from the back of the room suddenly calls out, "'Ware th'jib! 'Ware the... man overBOARD!" and a candidate tosses once in their sleep, making their cot squeak alarmingly, before lapsing back into silence.
She could ignore Teris; Saliqa certainly gets a good start at it with her pleasantly interested gaze focused on Taikrin and her hands resting most comfortably in her lap. But then she raises one of those hands to signal the convict to wait a moment and then her body twists just slightly back at the blonde. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry," she calls over, the fingers now pressing sincerely against her chest, "I mistakenly thought others' business and blunt questions was your thing, you see." She flashes a bashful close-mouthed smile that's not quite genuine enough to continue the stunt. That's probably why, throat clearing and anxious eyes later, she's struggling to return to the other conversation. "I'm sorry, you had a... a farm?" And someone's on a boat?
The sudden calling out is unexpected enough to draw Teris' gaze that way with a little start of surprise. But she's quick to look back Saliqa-wards with a well-practiced glare. That tension in her face makes it clear enough that she doesn't appreciate getting what she gives at all. But since everyone's content to press her out of the conversation, she returns her attention to her journal, the motions of her hand as she writes more earnest now.
Saliqa, standing up for her? It boggles the mind. Taikrin obviously isn't sure what to make of this new situation; she's obediently quiet when indicated, though more out of startlement than anything else. Eyebrows knit together as the convict glances from Teris to Saliqa and back again, before she sputters out in Teris' general direction, "Uh. Yeah!" A hint of grudging respect enters her dark gaze as Saliqa continues, and she's even comfortable enough to perch on the very farthest corner of her cot. "Uh. No, I ain't had one. One of th' guys said he worked on one. Said it was nice." A pause, then louder, towards Xeoshen, " Oi Xeo, you remember his name? Bovines, wasn't it?" Voice lowers again, with a somewhat somber admittence. "Didn't make it, see. Can't ask 'im."
Xeoshen just sits and listens quietly for a moment as the girls talk, not like they seemed to be hearing him anyway. He then looks up as Tai adresses him. "Ah, uh, Deruan I think it was, he was the one that got his leg caught under a boulder, right?" Poor guy, what a bad way to die indeed.
It boggles Saliqa's mind, too, if her too-wide eyes for the next several seconds is any indication and she strictly refrains from glancing to see if there's any physical reaction from Teris since silence seems to be prevailing from that corner. Her face displays her usual neutral, though it's possible she's halfway to following that all up with a blurted apology, when the solemn news distracts her. "That's terrible..." She shudders all up and down at Xeoshen's elaboration before pressing palms to blankets to regain calm. "I have fond memories of farms. Grew up on one. That work makes me think of my father-- did she look /very/ offended, Teris?-- no, no, wait, don't look. Don't stare." Regardless of whether or not Taikrin looks like she even cares, the girl bats her hands dismissing, voice purposefully too low to carry around the room now.
Silence continues though Teris does glance over that way briefly when Taikrin joins in the movement against her, however marginally. Regardless, she does start moving herself to her feet, slipping on slippers and gathering up her things so that she can, presumably, go find somewhere more quiet to do whatever it is that she's doing. It's not rushed or anything, but it is a rather purposeful way that she heads out toward the commons.
Telling Taikrin not to look at Teris is apparently tantamount to demanding she look /right now/, given the way she cranes her neck to eyeball the other woman. "I dunno, guess not--" She breaks off the rubberneck-ish stare with a start upon being called on it, returning her attention to Saliqa with a hint of embarrasment. "But. Uh. What was I sayin'?" A pause, then, she tilts her head back towards Xeoshen. "Right, Deruan. Sounds right." Sigh. "That was 'im. Anyways... maybe a farm might not be so bad. Somewhere warmer'n here."
Xeoshen nods. "He never freaked out though, just for the most part stayed calm, and then just went to sleep." And never woke up, they can only imagine the pain the man must of been in, even if he didn't seem to show any. He snorts. "Aye, a farm might not be bad, smelly though." He says, and then gets up, to climb up to his cot, and lay down. "I heard what they're gonna do to us finally, aparently us that were searched, they aint gonna send back to work on the project, instead we gonna be cleanin', and junk." Oh fun stuff.
Since Saliqa is pointedly ignoring that side of the room now, she misses any comings and goings, and with her hurried berating bringing Taikrin back around, she stays none the wiser. "It's a good smell," is offered to Xeoshen, a little laugh bubbling to her lips, "Of honest, hard work. I-- I guess I miss it sometimes." Her eyelids flutter warningly; she quiets some, "A farm you can really get into." She tries to retreat some onto her cot, but finds that the older girl is there. The smile she tries to offer turns incredulous too fast. "So that's what they've decided? I was wondering. A shame, so close to your sentences."
"Weyrwoman said she didn't want candidates missin' arms an' legs on the sands." Taikrin's cast-bearing arm is wiggled again. "Said her eggs was too good t'have broken candidates." She shrugs, unconcerned about missing out on the end of her sentence. "Not like I was gonna do much good down there now, anyways." A deadly serious note enters her voice. "I ain't never goin' back in there. I ain't gonna end like my da." This is possibly the most personal thing Taikrin has ever volunteered to anybody in the Weyr, and she makes a point of hurrying on afterwards. "Cleanin' an' muckin' an' stuff, that's what she told me. Still hard work. Plannin' on bein' /alive/ t'appreciate the end of my sentence, me."
Xeoshen nods. "Ay, I can agree ta that." He says, and grimaces at the memory. "I'll be happy ta never have ta go there again." He agrees, and sighs. "Mmm, cleaning, dishes, stables, latrines, lovely work." He remarks, and moves to sit up in his cot again, letting his legs dangle over the side. "Aye, true, it is a good smell, I may have ta look into it as well if I dun find ma dragon out on the sands."
Saliqa puts up a hand to insist but that note in the convict's voice brings it down again, ducking away to hide that it ever tried. Then that hand sort of shuffles along the cot's wrinkled blankets to venture at brushing Taikrin's fingers. "I'm glad you're both alright," she finally decides upon, though nothing lessens the severe downward pitch of her eyebrows quite yet: a mark of her lingering want to protest more. "Work is, after all, still work. I just hope it goes right by those left to finish the tunnels." Readjusting herself slightly, she pulls one leg under her skirts and onto the cot. "If you don't find your dragon," thoughtfully echoed off Xeoshen, "People talk about it so differently. Being certain or not. I just hope to do my best out there, see it done how my Lord wishes."
"Few of them was talkin' about tryin' t'get back t'Crom. Mines there're a bit safer, anyways." If Taikrin noticed the finger-brush, she doesn't show it. Or, perhaps, she shows it by not showing anything at all: her gaze suddenly fixes on Xeoshen as if he were the most fascinating thing in the world. "Don't think it's bein' certain, y'know. My ma said it helps if y'eat a lot of red meat, beforehand. Makes y'more attractive to'em. Or, y'know, shows 'em yer strong. She said y'just had t'get their attention right. None o'that touchy-feely stuff."
Xeoshen nods. "Aye, atleast in Crom they know how ta make a half way decent tunnel." Oh sure, almost turns in there, and he's acting like a pro at what they should be, yeah right. "I aint thinkin' it's certain, I'm being realistic, I mean look at how many have been searched." He does a vague waving of his hands around at the barracks, and various occupied cots. "There's more people here then there are eggs, the odds aint good." He says, and then snorts. "Eat alot of red meat, right, I'll remember that." He says. "Strong, right, I think most of are pretty strong."
"I didn't mean being certain was what sealed the deal," to Taikrin, "Or that it's a good or bad thing," to Xeoshen, "Just that some are saying it of themselves." Saliqa is quick to make sure everything's kosher. After that frosty lack of response, her hands are notably keeping to her own personal space, winding together in her lap or smoothing out random folds of her cot. "Eat red meat?" Yeah, she's clearly skeptical, watching the convict's face for some sign of joking. "Is this like the opinion that the queen dragon has it all planned out?" Even so saying, she raises an arm in front of her, experimentally eyeing the soft curves of her upper arm that, when flexed, react very little. Quickly, the arm drops. "Well, there's different /kinds/ of strong."
"Hatchlings eat red meat. Only makes sense." Taikrin eyes Saliqa's arm appraisingly, then allows, "Well, y'got a coupl'a months still t'work on it. Dragonriders gotta have a lot of muscle, y'know. 'Specially up here." For illustration, Taikrin's left arm is flexed to reveal more wiry muscle than could really be considered proper for a girl. "And she /does/ got some of it planned out, y'know. S'how she sends the search dragons out." Clearly, Taikrin is not joking: her expression is all seriousness. "Here, look. What sorta exercises does a girl like you do?"
Xeoshen nods. "Aye, true, they do." He says, and snorts. "Work in the mines a while, you'll build muscle quick." He chuckles, and flexes his own muscles for a moment, which are pretty good for a guys muscles. He then climbs down from his cot. "I think I'm gonna go see if they got any dessert in the caverns, see you guys later." He says, and heads out of the quarters.
At the sight of the other two's arms, Saliqa crosses her arm, hands wrapping around those fleshy curves of hers. "S'not right, getting me all worked out," she opposes with affected loftiness, despite the previous show of checking her muscles -- or lack thereof. "Don't think the man my stepfather found will app... rove." She hears the words for the first time even as she says them, eyes wide with a certain vulnerability having nothing to do with skin and bones. She shakes her head fiercely. "Umm, whatever," over the issue of what the dragons do, "Exercises? Well-- they've got me doing chores." A glance for clarification; that works, right? "Exercises sounds like a man's thing."
"What's not right about it? Ain't nothin' righter than bein' able t'take care of yerself." The talk of a man has Taikrin giving Saliqa the old wooly eye. "'Specially if there's a man involved. How're ya gonna protect yerself if he gets ideas?" Weakness spotted, Taikrin bulls onwards into the face of Saliqa's insecurity. "Ain't nothin' manly 'bout workin' some t'keep yer body strong. It's just common sense, like."
Saliqa snaps up some confidence in saying, "Any man chosen for me doesn't 'get ideas', Taikrin. He's a gentleman and he'll take care of me and we'll be m-married!" Watch the stutter. She's a bit cornered, especially tucked up on her cot with the convict so close by. "Unless the baby queen sees fit to notice me-- that's what I'm supposed to do." Her hands pick at her skirts, settling them about her pulled up legs all prettily. "Duty by my home, duty by my lord. None of it says I should have upper body strength."
"Gentleman, huh. So-- where is he?" Taikrin gestures to the room at large with her good hand. "He ain't here t'protect you. An' y'shouldn't rely on him anyways." The last is added with a sharp nod. Abruptly, her voice lowers into a conspiritorial whisper. "We got some not-too-nice sort in here, me included. Dragons apparently ain't real great judge of character. What're you gonna do if a sort like, uh, Trahalor, gets ideas? Duty t'yer lord or whatever says y'gotta stay safe, right?" There's a faint flush of color rising in her cheeks, and her voice, while low, is quite urgent; this is apparently a topic she feels quite strongly about.
Hands dropping to either side, Saliqa leans back self-consciously from the force of that urgency, as if Taikrin were using this to get into her face. "There's guards here to make sure of none of that. That's /their/ duty, protecting. It's all well and good, but as a woman, that's not my place. It's not. It's--" some little flustered hand movement, the reflexive jerk up of her chin as she prepares to tread the moral high-ground. "As for m'lord, he's... well. Not /exactly/ m'lord yet-- It's difficult, what with me not going home. Not that I don't want to get ma-- You know, I don't really want to talk about this anymore." Which should, apparently, cause the conversation to instantly stop. Magic words.
"But what if y'get caught on yer own? Crossin' the bowl, maybe, or doin' chores in the stables? The other lot's gettin' mighty restless." Taikrin's voice remains low, but her expression becomes terribly grim. "Had t'teach one of 'em who's boss coupl'a days passed, and they /know better/ with me. I hate t'think you--" She breaks off, suddenly embarrased, and leans stiffly back out of Saliqa's personal space at the rebuke. Her gaze drops, flicking from place to place for a moment before settling on the cot just beyond the other girl. Finaly, she half-mumbles, "Just hate t'think y'might get hurt, what with all this m'lord talk. Ain't right."
Saliqa remains flustered long after she's gained the full use of her cot; those legs remain tucked close to her, arms working between wrapping around her knees and letting her hands fuss at her hair. She spends a good deal of time brushing the black strands this way and that. The movement only half-covers the noise of her own slightly choked-up breathing. "I don't-- I don't think about that kind of thing. Not the kind of proper thoughts for a girl to have. But... but you keep bringing it up-- and I get these /images/," sniff, head-shake; "And this never happened at home. But I don't get to go home. I'm-- I'm all alone here." Hiccuping forcefully to hold in the worst of the emotional display, she seeks solace in breaking out the pleasantries: "But i-it's very kind of you to show concern."
"Wha-- hey! No! Don't cry!" Taikrin's voice rises with sudden panic. Her gaze darts wildly around the barracks, but apparently sees nobody who can come and rescue her from impending disaster. "Hey-- I didn't-- /please/ don't cry!" A tentative hand comes up to pat Saliqa's shoulder in a move that screams of awkwardness. "Y'ain't alone here, look, see, there's all these, uh, nice proper girls, an'--, uh... I just--" Still hopelessly floundering, she finally offers, "If it'll make y'feel better, I'll just, uh, I'll help you. If y'like. Keep an eye out, maybe."
The hand-pat is apparently so absurd that it causes Saliqa to break out into a round of hysterically inappropriate giggles. Her own gestures to rub the back of her hands against her eyes or to compulsively keep fixing a skirt that's perfectly in place are frantic, desperate to keep up appearances even if that ship has long sailed. "It's not-- it's just not the same!" She informs hopelessly, "They were /supposed/ to be my friends and now they /hate/ me and my father /hates/ me and all I ever wanted to do is make him proud. A-And-- And I think if I don't impress they'll never trust me again." She sucks in last desperate breath, thankfully silent at the sound of Taikrin's proposal. Cautiously, sniffling up the last of her outburst, she angles herself to look at the other girl. "... You'll help me."
Taikrin is not any more comfortable with the hysterical giggles than she was with the tears: the hand withdraws almost at once, as if burned, to wrap tightly around her midsection. "I'm, uh, I'm sure they don't hate you. Nice girl like you? Maybe they're, uh... jealous. Or somethin'." For just a moment she perks, latching on to her favorite last resort: anger. "An' if they don't approve, screw 'em! They ain't got no call, makin' y'feel that way! Ain't proper, treatin' family like that!" Just as quick as it appeared, though, the anger subsides back into Taikrin's own unique brand of helplessness. "Uh. Sure. I guess. Yeah. You know, watch yer back. Maybe teach you some'at might help."
Saliqa's head tilts in contemplative calm, for the first time in the last painful minutes; that's the effect hearing her own wording coming from the convict has. Ain't proper. "But-- but it's my responsibility... to do right by him..." She voices it curiously, investigating the words as they come out. And her eyes have started latching onto Taikrin like she's a lifeboat. There's a scoot forward on the cot, her tensed curl unfurling somewhat, easing shoulders down where they've become stiff. "You know, I... I /was/ starting to think it time to learn a bit more. About the Weyr. Living here. Never," she giggles again, less crazy-like, "Never really thought it'd be from a lady crook." The air's lighter at least, and her hands are starting to fold less nervously in front of her. Well. Not quite. She still has to screw up the courage to really gaze at Taikrin and say, "... Maybe the dragons aren't such bad judges... after all."
"Always good t'learn..." Saliqa may have /appeared/ to have calmed, but Taikrin doesn't trust it. Girls are crazy, after all. "'Lady crook'. Pretty sure I ain't never been called that before." Ever so slowly, though, some of the stiffness in her spine gives way. "I know some stuff. Not so much 'bout fancy things." There's the one-shouldered shrug again. "Just, y'know, livin' stuff." The other's girls last comment /is/ distinctly embarrasing: Taikrin's cheeks flush with color, and she just has to look around to make sure nobody's overhearing all this horrible, awful mushiness. "Yeah. Well. Uh." Her hand scrubs through her poorly-shorn hair as Taikrin searches for words. "Just don't like t'see girls cry, is all."
At least for Taikrin's sake, Saliqa's relaxation seems to be holding. Though we can do nothing about the sap; that's just there. "Well," the girl decides, "Can't say that living isn't my place." Her lower lip rolls into her mouth so she can clamp down on any smiling at the other's expense during that embarrassment. All that crying must've leaked out some of that proper hold breeding, though, because her eyes are a'glimmer with not just freshly fought tears but a hint of mischief. Rocking forward, she ogles the convict a bit skeptically, and a bit teasingly for that last part. "How inappropriately gallant of you." Because men are gallant. And girls don't... -- but anyway, she gets to her feet right after, dabbing at the corners of her face self-consciously now. "But I should go now. Freshen up."
"It, uh, it's good. But... yeah." Taikrin continues to flounder helplessly in all the estrogen that seems to be flying around now. Her jaw clamps shut, briefly, as she only /just/ manages to hold back a defensive snap in retaliation for the sudden bout of teasing. "I, uh, I try?" She rockets awkwardly to her feet just after Saliqa rises, complete with gasp of breath at the injudicious movement. "Yeah, y'should do that, uh, yer all--" Jaw snaps shut again on what would probably have been a wildly inappropriate comment, the flush of embarrasment growing steadily brighter. "I'll just let y'go an' do that, uh, lady thing. Whatever." Her hand rotates at the wrist, describing a terribly confused circle. "I'm just-- I'm gonna be on my bunk. If, y'know, somethin' happens. Yeah."
Saliqa stands there long enough to stare through whatever Taikrin has to say on the matter. Then, she hiccups again. Half laughing, half sniffing, she demonstrates several nods of understanding, gestures vaguely in the direction of the convict's bunk -- her correct bunk, not that one she totally just used anyway -- then spins about on her heels and marches promptly and faux-proudly off to do whatever 'freshening up' even is.