Logs:Back in the Candidate Action
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| RL Date: 28 February, 2010 |
| Who: Gabrion, Silarra, Taikrin, Saliqa, Xeoshen |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: The convict-candidates are free again, and finally returned to the candidate barracks. Candidate-drama has not stopped in the interim. |
| Where: Candidate Barracks, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 26, Month 1, Turn 22 (Interval 10) |
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| "I think you already are," Gabe says, and looks around the room. Then he reaches into his trunk and pulls out a towel. "I'm gonna go take a bath. I'll see you later, okay?" Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle. It's a Taikrin, returned from the dead to once more haunt the candidate barracks! Or something. She certainly looks as if she might be undead: her face, finally clean, has the pallor of one long-ill, and the incredibly stiff posture of her midsection speaks of many hidden bandages. More visibly, her right arm is in a sling and there are numerous little bandages visible covering apparently minor cuts and scrapes. Her steps are indeed quite slow and deliberate as she makes her way into the barracks. She doesn't make it far, though-- at the very first trunk, she stops and sits upon it, heedless of whomever it might actually belong to. "Bloody shells..." Silarra strikes a little pose of strength where she's sitting on her cot. "How very awesome!" She declares. "Enjoy your bath. And don't let your mom get you down. I'll write a letter to Dad, maybe we can get it to him, and he can talk sense into her." "Okay. Thanks," Gabe says, and grins at Silarra as he heads off. He does a double take at Taikrin but, intent on his bath, he doesn't stop. He can find out why she looks like a wherry chewed her up and spit her back out, afterwards. Silarra picks up the notebook off her cot and stands. Taikrin gets a look as she starts out of the barracks, but it's just to shake her head. "Man. You look like a runner ran /right/ over you." And with that great statement of sympathy, Silarra is heading out into the more public caverns. When Saliqa bustles into the room straight across the path of anyone exiting, it's with her hands clutching something tight against her chest and swiftly melting flakes of snow on her shoulders. The thick scarf around her neck hides most of her mouth as well, leaving only her naturally wide eyes for any sort of expression; this time, it's only a forward-focused concentration. Plotting this severe course in her head, she strides right past all the other cots to hers in the corner the, hesitating, turns back around and walks halfway out again. Turns. Pauses. Breathes into that fabric around her. Then, her hand comes up and she tugs the scarf further down her chest. "Oh, /drat/." Taikrin is still sitting as Saliqa bursts in and rushes right past her; she has no qualms about taking her ease on other people's property. Or taking other people's property in general. Either way, her gaze follows the other girl's movements, a ghost of a smile appearing on her face. "Oi, lost somethin', Saliqa?" Head jerking up, Saliqa is colored with guilt for the whole of several seconds that it takes her to find who's speaking. Upon spotting the female convict, she rolls onto her heels in vague relaxation. "Only my mind-- oh!" The bustling returns so that she can pick her way to the chest where Taikrin is sitting, there with her hurt arm that gets a very lengthy and critical examination by concerned eyes. "That's from the cave-in, isn't it. Ish, terrible. I'm only glad it isn't worse." "Only yer mind, eh. Nothin' important." But there's a twisted smile on her face that implies Taikrin is only teasing-- and that they must have given her some /fantastic/ drugs before she left the infirmary. "Yeah, just let me out, like. Broke it good. Coupl'a ribs, too." The way she thumps her casted and sling-ed arm also speaks of a lot of medication and a lot of numbweed. "Could'a been worse," comes the agreement in a voice still slight hoarse. "Whatcha lookin' for, anyways?" "Har har," Saliqa mutters in kind to the teasing, though in an absent manner since she's occupied in her own uneducated determination of whether or not Taikrin's cast looks /just right/. Since the drugs seem to have worked out, the rest must be okay, because she gives up and looks the convict-candidate in the eye soon after. "Well, I'm glad it isn't. Wouldn't let us come see real close. I can only imagine what it was like actually /in/ there..." a grimace, and she glances towards the door, "What? Oh, no. I'm not looking. I mean, I meant to come in here." "Ain't no place fer you. It was... it was..." Taikrin's voice tapers off into nothing, her gaze dropping from Saliqa's face to fixate vacantly on the middle distance. "... was..." A sudden shudder passes through her, and all at once she's back and in focus. "... was, uh, dark." And that's all she has to say on the matter. With something akin to desperation, she latches on to Saliqa's last comment, her focus twice as sharp now to make up for the previous moment's lost wanderings. "Okay, y'meant t'come in here, buuuuuut--?" Xeoshen shuffles into the barracks as well, shirtless for the moment, with his shirt slung over his arm as he goes. His back sports bandages that are covering the wounds caused when the rock whacked into him. He's also got various smaller bandages about him, as well as some visible cuts that just didn't need covering. Her head tilts in concern, Saliqa attempting to follow where Taikrin is going when she drifts away. Her grip loosening on the stack of hides against her chest, one hand seems moments away from detaching to go to the other female. But then those sharp eyes come in and the younger girl shakes her head gently, "Doesn't sound like much of a place for you, either." Or anyone, it seems to say. Then, "Buuut... I'm all tossed about. It's because of the--" Unfortunately, her explanation causes her to glance at the door a second time: only now the door is housing a very newly entered, very shirtless Xeoshen. There's only the tiniest widening of her eyes as warning before the holder girl throws herself also onto Taikrin's chest seat, turned in the opposite direction so she can't keep eyeballing this indecency going on. "Because of th'-- what?" Taikrin's forehead wrinkles as she attempts to follow Saliqa through her haze of druggedness. "What?" Baffled, now, she turns just enough to stare at Saliqa uncomprehendingly as the other girl sits besides her. "What are--?" She twists, then to get a look at the door, in a move that's perhaps unwise given the sudden gasp. But she's far too stoned to let a little thing like broken ribs stop her-- the twisted half-smile returns on spotting her fellow prisoner. "Oi, Xeo, they let you out too eh?" Her good hand comes up to wave him over. "They give you th' good stuff, too?" Indecency? Indecency?! Hey! Xeoshen's in good shape for a crook! He peers at the women. "Aye, they finally let me out, after I was left sitting there fer hours waiting for instructions." He grumbles. "Sharding healers." He grunts, and walks over toward them. He's seeing nothing wrong with walking around shirtless, he'll pull his shirt on if asked to though. "Good stuff? What good stuff?" Yeah, Xeoshen's /shape/ isn't exactly the problem here. Sat quite stiffly on the other side of that chest, Saliqa pins her gaze to the room's horizon and only ventures a glance at Taikrin once to shoot her a look that's supposed to silently describe the problem and does nothing of the sort. In her periphery, she catches the male convict /coming over there/. Coughing a little, she eyes her lap and shuffles the hides against her knees like there's nothing odd about her facing the wrong way while holding a conversation. "Why, it's good you're alright as well, Xeoshen. But you seem to have left your shirt at the infirmary." "Oh, you know, th' good stuff." Taikrin's hand describes a circle in the air, as if that's supposed to clear up the confusion. The slightly goofy smile on her face might help, though, given that it speaks pretty clearly of a light narcotic. "Lookin' better, not all covered in blood, like." Ever so carefully she leans back to gingerly rest her back against the stacked bunk beds. Saliqa is eyed again, still with some confusion, before Taikrin asks with uncharacteristic bluntness. "Y'all right there? Look, it ain't so bad. Bet he barely even hurts, much." Obviously, she's misunderstood the problem. "Ain't even no blood left. Nothin' t'be squeamish about." Xeoshen blinks, and shakes his head, "Nah, all they gave me was numbweed." He replies, and peers at Taliqa a moment. "Shard it, all ya had ta do was ask me ta put it on." He grumbles at her, and gingerly slips the shirt on, buttoning it up. "I didna think walking around shirtless would be suck a problem." He looks at Taikrin. "I don't think it was blood." "I'm not /squeamish/," Saliqa murmurs pointedly to the other girl, leaning to the side to put them close enough for an exchange only they can hear, "He isn't wearing a shirt." The solution presents itself soon after, though, and she scoots to the side on the chest to warily check. Mollified at his new clothed presence, she tilts her head away from him and chin up. "Well, it isn't quite /proper/, is it." The barracks aren't exactly private quarters, meaning it's likely happened before, but she gives a dignified sniff as if it all means something. "Anyway, if I'm going to teach you how to dress better, I expect you to keep it all on." Taikrin stares blankly at Saliqa, her bafflement obvious even as Xeoshen, who obviously gets it, is putting his shirt back on. "Uh... okay. So?" Her attention pings back and forth between them for a few seconds as the gears in her brain struggle to make the connection. And ultimately fail. "It ain't... proper? An' yer doin' what t'his clothes?" Head is shaken, then, slowly, as she mutters to herself, "Pretty sure I ain't got no fever no more..." Xeoshen crosses his arms over his now shirt covered chest. "Why isn't it proper? I see guys all the time walking around without their shorts on, and nobody's brother by it." He's probably seen it plenty times in the mines too, with the work that goes on. "She agreed ta get mee some new clothes, for when I get released." He tells Taikrin. Why yes he's letting a /girl/ pick clothes for him, he's doomed isn't he? "Just because some people ignore the fact doesn't mean it's not improper." So there. There's a few glances here and there at the cots of people Saliqa clearly believes embodies this before she's back on the two convicts. This time, a bit of a smile has perched on her. "Dress is important for the impression to make starting a new life. Or, well, Impression, but what do we know about that anyway. Oh! Reminds me." Here she twists herself even more to face them again, bringing the stack of blank hides with her. "I'd like to talk to you about things we know or don't know about Weyr life." Beam. "But-- what's improper? He ain't flashin' his junk out around nowhere." Taikrin is slowly becoming loopier, the longer she sits on the bench. She goes silent for a moment, struggling to keep up with the conversation, then demands, "What're ya makin' him? Is it gonna be nice? Xeo's got nice shoulders. Man-pretty." Yeah, they /definitely/ gave her the good stuff. "Things what we don't know about Weyr life? Like, they don't know two cracked shells 'bout makin' tunnels." Xeoshen snorts. "Right, first impressions count, or some crap like that." He says, and turns to peer at Taikrin a moment. "Er, thanks." He says to her, though the way she's acting, he's sure she didn't mean it. "Yeah, well, improper or not, I'm gonna do it when not in public." He grunts, and snorts. "Aye, if we were in the mines, that stupid hole wouldn't of fell." He comments, ok, maybe it would, but people might of actually noticed before it killed people! He waves hands. "Hey, I'm too tired ta be learnin' stuff right now, show me it tomorrow, or whatever, I'm goin' ta bed." He says, and walks off to his bunk bed, climbing up into the top bunk. Saliqa's eager face falls when he's all walking off like that and her mouth screws up to one side in a momentary stump as to what to do next. Eyeing Taikrin sideways, she waits for any more signs that the convict is going to drift off or ramble on or something of the sort from the drugs. Finally, "No, there certainly is enough trouble about those tunnels. Bad luck, all. And now it comes down to preferential treatment for some and back to bad tunnels for others." Giving a sigh, she taps a few fingers on the hides, "No. What I meant was things you was told before you came here that turned out wrong. Like bits about how dragons act. But maybe you're not up for this right now..." "'M not s'pposed t'stay up," Taikrin leans over to whisper conspiritorily to Saliqa. "'Go and lie down straight away.'" Her voice drops in mimicry of, well, presumably the healer who released her, before rising again in normal, albiet slurred, tones. "No, no, let's talk 'bout dragons. I got a thing--" Taikrin staggers upright rather abruptly, and stagger /is/ the proper term for the wildly balanced series of steps she takes to a bunk on the other side of the aisle. "Woah." Consternation is writ comically large across chalk-white features. "S'weird." "Oh, Taikrin..." Saliqa begins protesting the instant it comes out that the healer had express orders and she leans to the side to set down her hides in order to help. Of course, by the time she's straightening up again the convict has managed to vanish from the chest and stumble off. Shoving to her feet, she hurries to the other's side, easily ducking under one of Taikrin's arms to correct the dangerous lean she was tending towards in that direction. "I have an idea," she comments with a humor that colors her underlying concern. "How about you lie down straight away. Is this yours?" Of the bunk they're closest to. "Maybe." Taikrin squints at the bunk, as if that would make everything clear. "S'one with th'grey blanket. On the bottom." Because that doesn't describe fully half of the bunks in the room. As Saliqa arrives with her steady hand to prevent the looming catastrophe, Taikrin offers a sloppy smile. "Yer awful nice fer a hold girl, y'know." A few more staggering steps, and she moves to sit on the nearest bunk. While probably not hers, she's unlikely to be moved from it now. And, well, Taikrin's always been a bit loose with regards to property law. "Awful... nice." The mumbles fade as she allows herself to drop backwards onto the pillow in a move that would probably hurt quite a bit were she not drugged to the gills. There's a general downward momentum about Taikrin that Saliqa does her best to steer to an at least reasonable speed, hands behind her back or about her good arm until the convict just plops into place. She skeptically marks the cot that's now being used, but, well, this is probably as good as it's going to get. "Thank you, Taikrin, that's also nice of you to say," is returned all automatically as she tugs a bit on the pillow, fixes the sheets, and basically settles the top blankets over the older girl in a practical fashion. After straightening, and now that there's no one watching her, a smirk trails into place as she wipes her hands done. "Maybe next time you're on drugs I'll tell you we're friends." And she turns about in the room and makes to getting ready for her own evening. Taikrin mutters something that might have been appreciative -- though it's hard to tell, given that the only intelligible words seem to involve firelizards and snow and kittens. Barely a moment more and she's out completely, already beginning to snore in a fabulously annoying sort of way. She is /definitely/ going to regret this in the morning. |
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