Logs:Of Confrontations
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 23 April, 2006 |
| Who: Amilin, Maja, Morowen, Rathin, S'din, Shaylar |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| When: Day 28, Month 5, Turn 7 (Interval 10) |
| Your location's current time: 15:19 on day 31, month 5, Turn 57, of the Tenth Pass. It is a spring afternoon. Candidate Barracks(#430RAJs$) This is a large, high ceilinged cavern cut from the rock. There are rows of depressions on the floor, couches for the young dragons who will soon live here. For now, cots have temporarily been brought in for the candidates while they bide their time, waiting for the exciting day when the eggs will hatch. Men keep to one side and women to the other. At the foot of each cot lies a small press for storing clothing and other small items. The cavern has been decorated with old dragon tapestries hung on the walls, their colors slightly faded. A threadbare rug in the middle of the room bears the emblem of High Reaches Weyr, a mountain range in black on a dark blue field. A few low tables, chairs, and pillows have been scattered about the room, and baskets of glows placed strategically throughout the room keep the place well-lit. An opening in the southwest leads out into the Bowl. Contents: Morowen Shaylar(#12579PJOceh) Maja Feedback Box Important Questions for Candidates- READ ME! Candidate Cots Firelizard Perch(#8812JSae$) Obvious exits: Weyrling Training Room Bowl Morowen frowns a bit at the response given, "Something is wrong, but if you don't want to tell me then it's your business...Is it that your nervous about Hatching?" Shaylar blinks, "What? Oh, no. I'm not nervous about anything. Excited about the eggs, really. I um...well one of the weyrbrats ruined my best tunic today." She holds up her arm and shows off a six inch slash mark on the bright fabric and a multitude of reddish brown stains. It almost looks like the fabric is bruised. The faint sweet smell of berry juice is evident to those with a good sense of smell. "Brats is about right." Rathin's shuddering as he comes into the barracks. His clothing's a bit askew, and there's dirty handprints all over his linen shirt. "So many children. Although I'd like to kiss whomever's idea it was to coral them all in the one place." He walks towards his press, leaning over to dig inside for a clean shirt. Shaylar sighs and digs for a clean tunic as well, before heading over to a free wash-basin. Harley sits up on her cot, staring at Rathin. "You mean we should let them run all over the weyr wreaking havoc for everyone and not in that one place?" she asks seriously. After a bit of digging, Rathin comes up with a clean shirt, pulling the old one off over his head and throwing it vaguely in Harley's direction. "Sure," he agrees with Harley as he tugs on his clean shirt, "Go nuts. I don't plan on being here," he grins. Maja walks into the barracks, the remnants of a sweetroll in one of her hands. She pauses in the doorway, possibly inspecting the room, before she heads calmly towards her cot and finishes the roll. Shaylar comes back in a clean tunic after scrubing berry juice off herself. She holds her ruined shirt in her hands and sighs, "I really loved this tunic. My auntie Dritzi made it for me." She sighs again and tosses it towards the laundry bin. "Maybe I can make a scarf out of the unstained parts." Harley simply sticks a hand out, catches the shirt, swings it in an arc and tosses it back onto Rathin's cot. "Right." she snorts and shakes her head. "Your worse than they are I think." she mutters. Rathin winks at Harley, agreeing simply, "I sure am - mostly because I -do- have the run of the place." The erstwhile trader catches sight of Maja's arrival, and her inspection of the barracks. With an abrupt grin, he asks her, "Do you want me to take my shirt off again to you can get another look, vixen?" Shaylar glances between Rathin and Maja and makes certain there's a clear path between the two that she's not in. She settles crosslegged on her cot and leans back against the wall with a sigh. She pulls out a bit of hide from under her pillow and studies it. Morowen shakes his head in exasperation at Rathin's antics, "Never learn do you Rathin?", he rolls his eyes, and settles back down to calm his nerves. "I think the point here is, I'd rather you not," Maja doesn't seem particularly ruffled and simply stays at her cot, though there's a brief smile that twitches her lips at Morowen's comment. "I think he's learned all he can for one turn, actually." Harley bites her lip and stretches out on her cot again. She glances at Shaylar with raised eyebrows. "You don't have any goodies from the kitchen today, do you?" she asks hopefully. "Too much man for you, vixen? That's okay, as long as you're able to quell your desire. Wouldn't want anything -embarrassing- to happen." Rathin closes his press, moving around to his hammock and, eyeing the dirty shirt for a moment, instead drops uninvited onto Harley's cot next to it, half leaning on her legs. "I can only hold one thought in my head at any one time. Two, if I'm trying particularly hard. Makes it hard to learn," he offers, holding up the appropriate number of fingers, "Maybe you can try tossing me off a cliff again, Morowen?" Morowen grins at Rathin, "Thankfully, I didn't have to, and considering you still ended up over the cliff, I'm not complaing." Shaylar shakes her head, "I left so quick I didn't get a chance. Hey, wait. I've got cookies from this morning, though." She rummages through her roomie beltpouch and comes up with a dishtowel. She flips it open to revel a half dozen cookies. She slips off her cot to run one over to Harley. She glances over at Morowen, "Oh, wasn't it Maja that pushed him over, Morowen?" She glances at Maja for confirmation. Harley takes the cookie with a grin and a "Thanks." She looks at Rathin, leaning on her legs, but doesn't say anything and with a shrug starts nibbling on the cookie. "I'm not sure I'm glad I missed it or I wish I'd been there for that one." she admits. Maja eyes Rathin for a moment as he leans over Harley, and crosses her arms. Shaylar gets a nod. "Yes, it was I, and I was quite glad to do it. -- I'd do it again," she emphasizes the last part, "If it would knock some sense of modesty into your head, Rathin." "I only did it because you and Shaylar promised to nurse me back to health." Rathin says, eyeing Harley sidelong with amusement. "I was rather upset I didn't even come away with a sniffle." His eyes widen at Maja, shocked expression obviously affected, "Why, vixen, you give the impression you don't much like me! I'm hurt. But if you want another go at me, just name the time and place." Brows flicker upwards, inquisitively. "If you're free now..." Maja begins, raising her eyebrows with no indication she's not completely serious. Shaylar snorts, "Probably a good thing. I doubt you'd have been a gracious patient." She grins down at Harley. Maja's statement makes her head spin around to see what Rathin's response will be to that challenge. Harley's eyes go between Maja and Rathin with a glance over to Shaylar, then back to the pair. She's continues to nibble her cookie but she's watching them both. Rathin pushes himself upright, delighted grin coming across his features. "For you, vixen? Perfectly free." Standing from Harley's cot, he extends his arms out to either side of him, as if awaiting the ex-guard's decision. Shaylar receives an easy smile, "I'd've been gracious if you were waiting on me hand and foot, love." S'din walks in from the bowl. S'din has arrived. Amilin has arrived. Maja stands up as well, crossed arms tightening across her chest. She purses her lips. "Would you like to go to the cliff again, Rathin? It's a shame it can't be in here, but I'd rather keep my knot." Harley blinks at Rathin. "Hand and foot?" she asks softly, an brief, unreadable expression crosses her face and she sits up again, swinging her feet over the edge of her cot. "You know that's not going to change anything Maja. I think he enjoys it." S'din strides into the barracks and looks around a moment, then clears his throat and says in a sharp, loud voice that carries over any and all commotion, "You may not be able to hear it yet, but the dragons have begun to hum! Get ready!" "The cliff it is. After you, vixen," Rathin bows, the gesture deliberately mocking, before making a hand motion in the direction of the exit. Shaylar's eyes are sparkling as she nibbles a cookie, watching the soap opera unfolding in the barracks. The Weyrlingmasters' entrance catches her eyes though. She nudges Harley with on hand...oh, there's the confirmation. She manages to crumble her cookie in her hands and grimaces, trying to keep the crumbs from sprinkling the floor as she dashes for her press. S'din calls over the sudden commotion, "Just remember while you're out there, VSC! VSC! VERY Sharp Claws! The dragonets have them and if you don't keep your wits about you, you may be on the receiving end of them!" Rathin, walking towards the entrance, stops, and eyes S'din in obvious confusion. His eyes finally drop towards the man's knot, and he exhales slowly as he turns towards the ex-guard. "Well, love, looks like you're off the hook. Shall we reschedule for later?" a pointed glance is given to Maja, sober, serious all of a sudden. S'din looks down at Rathin and says, "Not likely unless you both are unable to Impress." He claps his hands sharply and shouts, "Move it! The dragonets aren't going to wait for you!" Maja walks up towards Rathin, motioning him to head out in front of her-- though she is surprised by the arrival of S'din. "Yes. Later. I'll wait." Without hesitation, she about-faces and marches back to her cot, pulling her robe out from beneath it. She appears to be completely calm. Harley gets hit with a couple of those cookie crumbles and shakes them out of her hair. In one motion, she reaches out and opens her trunk while the other hand darts into it and pulls out the robe she'd selected out of the bins the other day. Rathin answers S'din's comment with a shrug of shoulders and another glance at Maja, then an imperceptible nod, unruffled by the Weyrlingmaster's words. He moves back towards his press, digging inside it. It doesn't take him long to find the robe - it's a little crumpled, like he threw it in there - and it doesn't look as if he's made any effort to alter it to himself at all. Once more, he pulls off his shirt, tugging the white robe over his head. Shaylar brushes the cookie bits onto the dishtowel on her cot and then rubs her hands on her freshly donned tunic before she strips out of it and jerks her robe from her press and shimmies into it. She then shucks her legging and boots and leaves them in the floor where the fall. Sandals clomp on the floor as she tosses them down to slide her feet into. Then she walks, almost bouncing, to stand near the clump of already robed canidates in front of the Weyrlingmasters. Amilin stops just inside the barracks and surveys the candidates before she moves into the room farther. Pointing out to one lad to change his boots for sandals and then stopping by another girl to help her with the clasp on her necklace as she tries to remove it, "Yes, I'm sorry. Even if it's your luck piece, it'll have to stay here." Morowen is sitting on his cot listening to S'din, and hearing that hatching was -soon- he grabs up his robes from his press. Dressing quickly, he puts his worn sandels on and walks over to the other candidates. S'din simply stands in the entryway, arms crossed over his chest and watching with those golden eyes of his. He's said what he needed to say and the rest is up to the Candidates...or the dragonets, whichever. Maja slides her own robe on, patting around her back side at a rather sizable white patch that's taken the place of kidlet mischeviousness. The sewing is decent, and the patch does its job. She pulls her regulation boots off, peels off her socks and slides on her sandals. Rathin seems to be taking his time a little - at least, he doesn't have the hurried motions that some of the other candidates do. He finally grabs his sandals and slips them on, walking towards the gathered grouping, looking, if anything, reluctant, his expression mostly guarded. S'din waits until almost all the Candidates are lined up before him before he starts speaking again, "Alright, listen up! We're going to file on over to the ledge where you will all wait until it's time to walk onto the sands! Assistant Weyrlingmaster Amilin will cue when you are each to walk onto the sands. Take up whatever place you like, as long as it's not any nearer the eggs than anyone else. Are there any last-second questions before we head over? "Is it too late to back out?" Rathin asks. Judging on past experience he's probably being facetious, though there's nothing of it in his voice; only the faintest quirk of a smile. S'din glances at Rathin, pauses, then chuckles, "In a word? Yes. Last chance for anyone else?" Maja is fairly expressionless, herself, arms crossing as soon as she's finished dressing. She takes a spot just outside of the group, shaking her head at Rathin's question and then at S'din. "Just thought I'd check." Rathin's expression is oddly sober. Shaylar rolls her eyes at Rathin and then shakes her head at S'din, "No, sir." S'din nods and says, "If that's it, then follow me to the staging area!" S'din strolls out to the bowl. S'din has left. Morowen again shakes his head at Rathins comment, and moves in with the main group. Maja walks out to the bowl. Maja has left. You meander out to the bowl. Weyrleader Ledges(#12138RJLs) A flight of steps worn smooth with time lead up to a broad flat area with enough room for a gold and her consort to sprall and lounge. Openings lead to a room used for conferences, the Weyrwoman's private room, and the hatching sands themselves. A round table of well polished hardwood sits in one corner and is surrounded by chairs. Contents: S'din Tubs of oil and meat Obvious exits: SeniorWeyrWoman Bowl Passageway to the Hatching Grounds Council Chamber WeyrLeader Sky Maja comes up the steps from the bowl. Maja has arrived. Harley comes up the steps from the bowl. Harley has arrived. Morowen comes up the steps from the bowl. Morowen has arrived. Shaylar comes up the steps from the bowl. Shaylar has arrived. Amilin comes up the steps from the bowl. Amilin has arrived. S'din peers through the passageway to the sands and then back over his shoulder at the Candidates. "Put on your best faces, troops! Here we go!" He turns back and strides onto the sands. S'din has left. Amilin follows the candidates in, but she moves quickly to the head of the line. Taking up a position at the entrance to the sands as she glances over the group and for a moment, waits. Rathin trails along with the group, eyeing the ledges with some interest as he waits. Shaylar shuffles her feet a bit, caught between two candidates she doesn't know well. She ducks back until she's between Morowen and Harley and bounces on the balls of her feet. Amilin pulls from her jackets pocket a list, and reading down it she calls out names in no particular order. The first few filing through before she calls "Harley." Maja give Rathin a fairly examining look as he walks ahead in front of her, though says nothing as they stop. Rathin eventually seems to note Maja's look, and glances back at her, head tipped to one side, quizzical. "Can't stop looking at me, vixen, even now?" he murmurs. From the sands> Matheny wiggles the fingers of her free hand over at the Weyrlingmaster in a greeting wave and then leans forward a little so that she can watch all the candidates come in while she comments to Rilsa. "I just hope everyone stays safe this time. I'm sure they will." As if she were reassuring herself. Amilin watches for most of one group to go through and names off several others "Rathin. Morowen. Shaylar... And ah, yes, Maja." Maja simply offers Rathin a brief smile, shakes her head, and motions for him again to go ahead of her. "Time to go." Shaylar nudges Harley, "You're turn, girly." Then she notes where her name was called and waits for Rathin and Morowen to proceed her out. Rathin grins, winking to Maja before he steps out onto the sands. |
Leave A Comment