Logs:Taikrin gets a trim and a bone
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| RL Date: 12 March, 2010 |
| Who: P'ax, Warucori, Taikrin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: It's Taikrin's first real day of freedom. She celebrates by cutting her hair with her very own knife, which she is finally allowed to have. P'ax offers to clean it up for her, and then gives her and Warucori their scavenger hunt item. |
| Where: Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 8, Month 3, Turn 22 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Steady, today's snowfall sticks, creating dunes on the bowl floor. |
| Despite the snow that has piled up this afternoon -- and continues to fall, though only in the occasional drifig flake -- Taikrin has found her way to the side of the lake. She's quite notably alone, and also quite notably armed. Well, sort of. Someone has apparently loaned her a rather small belt knife, and she is /very/ occupied with cutting off chunks of her hair. It's a crude process, though apparently quite fast: a hank of hair is grabbed, then knife sawed through it a couple of fingerlengths from her scalp and the cut strands left to pile up on the snow. P'ax swaggers down the beach, bundled up and accompanied by the trundling bulk of Yyth. It's not him who spots Taikrin, but the dragon, and she who snorts and draws his attention to the convict-Candidate. "Now what did your hair ever do to you?" he drawls as he comes into range and sees her hack job. Taikrin freezes mid-hack at being addressed, though once it appears nobody's causing an immediate fuss, she cuts all the way through the locks and carefully lowers the knife before turning to eye P'ax warily. "Was gettin' in my eyes. Needed a trim. I ain't makin' a mess what anyone cares about, an' I didn't steal this neither." The beltknife in her hand is hefted, then stowed in the sheath tucked into the back of her pants in a quick motion. "Borrowin' it." P'ax blinks at Taikrin for a moment in bewilderment. "Defensive little thing, aren't you? Have you never heard of scissors? Faranth, you look like a wherry attacked your head." He toes at the locks of hair on the ground, shaking his head. "Same thing-- scissors, knife, whatever," is Taikrin's dismissal of the entire situation. "Been doin' it this way f'r turns." A hand is brushed through the half-done hair, her expression caught between bewildered and defensive. "S'cause I ain't /done/ yet. Uh, sir." She seems finally to have put together P'ax's knots with the accompanying green dragon, who is accorded an equally wary sidelong look. P'ax's eyebrows draw together. "Riiiight." He draws the word out uncertainly and then clears his throat, extending his hand in offering. "I'm P'ax, none of that sir crap. I'm not really the sir type." Yyth is deserving of wary looks. She has a reputation, whether Taikrin has heard it or not. "P'ax..." Taikrin's eyebrows draw together as her bewilderment deepens, though she does shake P'ax's hand in a relatively firm greeting. "'m Taikrin." Under her breath, she repeats to herself, "P'ax, P'ax-- oh!" Her good hand knuckles the bridge of her nose as realization dawns. "Bloody shells, I forgot. I was s'pposed t'look f'r you, when I'm done. Gabrion told me somethin' about a bone or somethin'." P'ax's mouth curves up reflexively at the mention of Gabrion. "I'm surprised he didn't just come get it himself. It's nice to meet you, Taikrin." He shifts his weight, eyeing her. "So, you're after one of Yyth's bones, hm? Well, never get something for nothing, you know." Taikrin shrugs noncommitally, her left shoulder rising and falling in one quick motion. "He's been real busy." She pauses, then, a hint of an amused smirk appearing. "Though I reckon he /really/ just likes seein' if I'll do stuff when he asks." The talk of bones returns Taikrin's attention to Yyth, and the wary look returns once more. "What kind'a bones we talkin', anyways? He didn't tell me." "Busy fucking Firistan?" supplies P'ax bluntly, somewhat acidly. He swats his hand through the air after that though -- don't answer that. "Well aren't you sweet to come deal with me for him, hm? Oh, nothing /special/. Yyth likes to keep the bones of the things she kills, that's all." Perfectly normal, right? Taikrin only lets a little snort of involuntary laughter escape at P'ax's question; after that, she's right back to the wariness. "What, like wherry bones or herdbeast bones or whatever? Ain't they kind'a big? An'... smelly, like?" Her eyebrows knit even further together as she tries to work it all out. "Don't they just eat th'bones, anyways?" "I picked a few of the small ones. Joints, mostly." P'ax shrugs and offers her a reassuring smile. A pouch is extracted from his coat and opened up. He pulls out a piece about as thick as two fingers, shaped like a vertebrae, and offers it to her. "Well, sometimes. She really prefers their insides though. She doesn't always eat the, ah, meat parts. If she's full. Or blooding for a flight. And no, they don't smell." Obviously, the bone is clean and white. "I boil them to break down any meat left on them and then they get an acid bath to take care of anything left over. They're just bones. It's the flesh that stinks when it decomposes." "Huh." The talk of draconic feeding doesn't appear to upset Taikrin; it's entirely possible she just doesn't know any better. In any case, she's more curious than afraid as she looks from Yyth to P'ax then back again. Finally, she peers at the bone with a more than passing interest, and even reaches out her left hand to take it before drawing it back suddenly. "So-- what's th'goin' rate f'r cleaned-and-acided bones, anyways? I ain't got nothin', really, t'trade. Ain't even got a belt knife, really." P'ax continues to hold the bone out, even when she pulls her hand away, wiggling it invitingly. "I don't really want anything, necessarily. Just, uh...let me fix your hair, huh? That's really...awful. Pretty girl like you ought to at least have her hair cut straight with a proper pair of scissors." Taikrin eyes P'ax a moment more, but finally her wariness fades and she does take the bone piece. It's weighed in her hand for a second, and then she's stuffing it into a pocket while the traces of a pleased grin appear. "Y'wan't t'cut it?" She's rather bemused at the request, but submits with another one-shouldered shrug. "Sure, I guess. S'long as it ain't in my way, I don't pay much mind to it." P'ax makes a beckoning gesture with his hand. "Right-o. Good. Perfect." Maybe he wasn't expecting her to actually accept. "Tell you what? I will hop up to my weyr and borrow E'dre's shears, and then I'll meet you in hte living cavern?" Anything that means less effort on her part is a-okay in Taikrin's book. "'Kay," is her rather placid response, before a crinkle of worry appears on her forehead again. "Ain't they gonna mind gettin' hair all over th'place, though?" P'ax snorts. "Think I give a shit about what 'they' mind? Wouldn't be the worst thing to ever happen in there, and it's perfectly easy to sweep up anyway." He flips the backs of his hands at her. "Shoo. I'll be right there." Taikrin shoves her good hand in her pocket -- the same one with the bone -- and ducks her head in assent. "See y'over there, I guess." That done, she turns and begins the trudge through decent-sized drifts towards the Caverns. You head to the living cavern. Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr(#350RJs) Stalactites hang high above this enormous cavern like a jagged chandelier or an inversion of the Spires themselves, but shadows cling to them instead of light. Below lie great tables arranged in rows, each large enough to serve a fighting wing, while in the nooks and alcoves around the cavern's edge sit more sensibly-sized tables, from six- and eight-seaters down to intimate spots for just a couple of diners. The only really open space is around the kitchen entrance, smelling of food and rarely quiet, and by the nearby serving tables with their long buffet of the day's offerings. Tapestries on the smooth walls -- some faded and others newly woven -- only slightly mute the sea of sound when a meal is in full swing, but they add cheerfulness augmented by the glowlight from wall sconces and the centerpieces of each table. Still, shadows always creep along the ceiling and into the mouths of the exits -- the myriad small hallways at one end of the cavern and, at the other, the twisting tunnel to the bowl near an array of coathooks and and hatracks -- and late at night, when the glows are allowed to dim, the chamber can seem very dark indeed. P'ax heads in from the bowl. P'ax has arrived. Taikrin trudges into the cavern with the last of the afternoon light. Her hair -- always a bit ridiculous -- looks particularly scruffy and ill-cut today, as if she'd been in a fight with a bad-tempered wherry. She takes only a moment to stomp the snow from her boots before heading to the very nearest bench to the entrance and plopping down gracelessly upon it. Warucori sits by one of the hearths, currently shuffling a deck of cards. She's alone though, apparently she's either getting ready for a solitary game, or her gaming companions have left her for the night, it is getting a little late. She's been watching the doorway and as Taikrin comes in, gives her fellow candidate a small smile in greeting. P'ax comes in just a few minutes later, carrying a pair of scissors in his hand and brushing snow off his heavy riding jacket. He looks around, scanning the cavern, until he spots Taikrin, and then hefts those shears in a mocking salute. "Well then, are you ready?" "Hey," is Taikrin's laid-back greeting towards Warucori, and though she eyes the cards with more than a passing interest, she doesn't move to join the other candidate. She pops back up to her feet when P'ax enters, offering an off-kilter smile at the salute-and-shears. "Guess so. Y'wanna just-- here?" She gestures towards the otherwise empty table she's claimed. "Or somewhat else?" Warucori's fingers still against the cards and she stares at P'ax. Actually the staring is directed at the shears in his hand and then the look shoots over to Taikrin. "You're getting your hair cut?" She blurts out. "There's fine," confirms P'ax, moving to snag some glows to bring in close to give himself plenty of light. He grins wolfishly at Warucori at her question. "You want to be next?" he teases. Taikrin runs her fingers through her half-shorn hair. "Well, I was doin' it myself outside, but he thought it looked funky." Taikrin shrugs, then flops back down onto the bench and rests her cast on the table. "Hate it when it gets in my face. Had a guard doin' it fer me at Crom, but..." Warucori's eyes round and she puts a hand to her hair, "Crackdust! No way." As though the hand could protect her bountiful curls. She gives Taikrin's mussed hair a sympathetic look, "Ooh, I see. And...just how much are you going to take off?" "They're going to shave your head if you Impress," says P'ax evilly as Warucori goes to protect her curls. He takes up a position behind the other Candidate, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Well, it won't make you look like the glamorous Lady Holder, but at least it will be even, and out of your face." He reaches to start raking her hair back away fron her face, measuring up the length. Taikrin goes terribly stiff as P'ax gets into her hair, taking exaggerated care to hold still -- someone's got a blade to her head, after all! Her eyes do dart towards Warucori, though, and she can't help but smirk at the other girl. "Y'sure? Y'could get it over now, y'know." As for her own hair? "Dunno, s'long as it ain't in my face and I ain't totally bald, it's good." Those are some high standards she's got there. "IF. that's /IF/. " Cori says quickly, a little breathlessly, "I'm not going to go snipping away on the .... fraction of a fraction chance that it might happen." SHe gulps dryly, "Imagine sheering it all off and then not impressing?" SHe shudders a little but falls silent to watch the cutting in progress. P'ax chuckles at that stiffness, lifts his chin to look down his long nose to judge, and then begins to snip carefully, picking up locks to match to make it all even. "Hair grows, Cori. It's hardly the end of the world to cut it." "I /do/ shear it all off. S'much as I can." Taikrin does look over Cori's hair, though, with interest. "Yers is pretty nice, though, gotta say. Too much work, though." Her eyes roll upwards as a lock of hair drifts down past her nose and she twitches, once, as though attempting to see just what was going on up there. "Ain't gotta be nothin' fancy, like," she encourages with a voice that's slightly /too/ interested for her attempt at nonchalance. Warucori plucks at one of her curls a little and smiles, "I know, but only after a very long time. And here at the weyr it looks fine to have short hair, but back home I'd have to be in a hat or be teased for playing the part of a boy. Hold-girls rarely cut their hair short. I guess I /could/ say it's a new weyr-fashion and play it off...." is she actually considering it? The falling hair is watched with an almost nervous expression, "Thank you Taikrin. It's not so much work. I think evening out that bit there is really going to make you look nice." P'ax continues to clip away, shushing Taikrin placidly. "You want to look nice for the dragons, don't you?" he teases. "You wouldn't want to be passed up because the hatchlings thought you looked foolish." He's having too much fun spreading such seeds of nonsense to the candidates. "You know, Cori, short hair wouldn't be the worst thing a girl came home from the weyr with." Taikrin is, unfortunately, all too willing to believe this sort of nonsense. She goes very still again, and her eyes go wide as she tries in vain to stare at P'ax. "They do that? Th'Weyrwoman was tellin' me 'bout how they all got moods an' stuff an' somethin' 'bout how they already know who they's gonna pick but she didn't say nothin' on how they could change their minds--" She manages to cut off the babble, finally, and slants a look over towards Warucori. "S'that /really/ why yer keepin' yer hair pretty? Y'heard that too?" Warucori blinks at Taikrin, "she said that? That they already know? Do you think that the little ones could hear us when we were out there amoung the eggs? Maybe they are making up their minds while curled up in there really snug." A hand smooths over her hair gingerly at the question as to why she's keeping it, "I don't really have a reason to cut it, and I like it long." She gives P'ax a puzzled look, "what else would a girl come home with from the weyr?" P'ax is truly an asshole. Truly. "Well, what if your dragon was vain? I mean, he or she might not want to be seen with a scruffy raggamuff, right?" Snip snip. "Of course they know. That's why you touch the eggs, so each little dragon can listen to you and decide if they like you or not. Of course, if you're really special two dragons might just both decide they want you and then it will be a fight!" He's probably naking this bull up on the fly, a lurid smile stretching wider on his face, looking completely out of place there. To Cori, distractedly, "Babies. Missing limbs." "She told me they already know an' th'touchings were so we wouldn't be scared of 'em or nothin'." Taikrin's brow furrows in confusion over the conflicting information, and she's quite serious as she attempts to puzzle it all out. "Makes kinda sense, though... 'cause they can't /see/ us, right? 'Til they come out?" She's still not quite worked out this fighting business, though apparently she finds it potentially plausable: "Y'seen 'em do it? My ma said she seen 'em go at candidates, but she didn't say nothin' 'bout each other. You reckon their dam'll let 'em? Iovniath don't look like th'type." Warucori gasps and covers her mouth with not one hand but both of them. "Seriously? Dragons fighting? Ohmygosh!" Speaking around fingers, looking like she might start chewing on the nails. "And...and m-mising limbs?" Popping eyes might come first if her round eyes get any bigger. "B-but ......" the 'babies' part is clearly so out of the question it doesn't register on her, but the thought of blood makes her face appear sheet white. "I was so terrifed when I was on the sands and they're still /inside/ the eggs." P'ax deadpans, "Yyth stomped all over a few Candidates before she found me. Cadejoth was going to pick me, but she scared him away and he went to K'del instead since he was next to me." Which could...almost be seen as the truth...in...some...alternate universe. Somewhere. "They could do anything, really, before they Impress." He waves his scissors cheerfully. "But I'm sure you'll be fine. Nobody's died on the Sands in Turns! Well...there was that unfortunate boy who lost an eye, but really, that's so rare...." Snip snip. Taikrin taps the bottom of her cast idly against the tabletop as she ponders this new revelation. "I ain't worried 'bout 'em gettin' me. Reckon I'm faster'n any newborn thing. And this thing'll be off in a coupl'a days most like." Because the cast is her big impediment here, obviously. "So-- we gotta be pretty, an' we gotta eat red meat--" She's a fantastic collection of bizarre advice, is Taikrin. "-- an', well, I dunno how t'stop somethin' from fighting. But--" Suddenly concerned, she demands, "What if it's a dragon what'd /like/ someone who don't pay attention t'what they look like? What if he /likes/ crazy hair or dirt or whatever?" Warucori looks like she might just vomit right there, "they never said that. The never said...lose an -EYE-." The fingers tremble as her voice twists into a shrill octive. She lets the panic spiral in her a moment. Then Taikrin mentions the red meat and she blinks, "oh! I found out that we don't have to eat the red meat. I got a whole long lecture about it...doesn't matter what we eat." At least there's that, "Although if it's going to be the last meal before I'm mutilated...maybe I should make it a good one." "I could leave one side of your head crazy, just to cover your bases?" offers P'ax, trying hard not to snigger. His chest bounces, but at least the sound doesn't come out. "No no no, /you/ don't eat the red meat. The red meat's for THEM. You know, they're starving when they hatch. So hungry they'll eat anything you shove in their mouth. Little...gluttons. They eat and eat til they're so gorged they pass out. It's pretty funny." "Y'think it'd help?" Poor Taikrin is terribly serious about this... and not the least bit squicked out by all this talk of violence and gore. "But /before/. Heard it helps t'attract 'em t'you, since they're hungry an' all." A *look* is slanted at Warucori. "Who gave it t'you? Can't believe everythin' y'hear, y'know." And she's serious about that, too, bizarrely enough. Warucori frowns that Taikrin wouldn't believe her. /Her/. "Hey..." she does smile though, "I went and asked just to be sure, because I heard you shouldn't eat the meat because you could get attacked for smelling like it, but then you said to eat it to draw them in. Now we should have it in our pockets apparently." Her face goes hot, but at least she's not looking as sick, "W'chek is the one who lectured me, and he called me stupid." more or less, "So....I don't know what to believe and I think all the weyr is trying to make fools of us." She crosses her arms over her chest, looking sulky, "it's really not fair. At all. I can't trust anyone can I?" P'ax rolls his eyes and shakes out the side he's finished, and starts on the other side wordlessly. "Can W'chek still talk without his teeth?" he muses, amused. "You're right though. Shouldn't believe everything you hear. Gets you confused." Taikrin's expression darkens almost the instant W'chek's name leaves Warucori's lips. "Y'can't believe /anything/ he tells you. /He's/ the one what likes t'hit on little boys like Gabe." This, therefor, makes him a scoundral and liar in all things. Her voice, too, takes on a dark note that hints at violence. "In fact, y'should prolly do the opposite of whatever he toldja." Mention of his teeth does have Taikrin craning her head backwards several inches before she can stop herself in an effort to look up at P'ax. "What happened t'his teeth? Someone's boot, maybe?" "He ate too much sweets and his teeth are rotting out of his head." Warucori states to Taikrin in all seriousness. See what happens whe you LIE? "It's distugsting. I mean, can you imagine what his breath must smell like?" A little mock shudder for that. As to the 'likes little boys' part, her nose crinkles and she sighs, "I know it's very uncomfortable to think about 'that' sort of thing--we are at the weyr and that is how things are here. I don't think it's.../that/ bad. Surely Gabe is old enough to be married anyway." "My fist, actually," replies P'ax proudly. He grins again at Warucori and replies musily, "His breath is just fine. He's a good kisser." Beat. "It's a shame he had to punch Gabe and make me punch him in return, he's probably never going to forgive me after I broke his partial." The beginning bubblings of Taikrin!Rage transition abruptly into confusion. "The bloody-- what? Y'think that-- no! What th' bloody shells he tell you, anyways?!" P'ax's explanation prompt a deep breath and a moment's stillness as Taikrin attempts to return to some semblance of calm. "Ain't no thing where Gabe likes t'stick his junk, an' I /don't/ reckon he's plannin' on gettin' himself hitched. W'chek ain't got no call t'be hittin' on his face, is all. Glad you did it." Taikrin pauses, and forces a tightly clenched fist to unwind. "Might'a had t'do it myself, an' I don't reckon it would'a gone so well." Warucori's eyes flick to P'ax and then to Tairkin several times in nervous little blinks, "Ah.." Blink-blink. She rubs the side of her face and gives her head a shake, "I'm sorry....wait...someone punched him? Who would punch a dragonrider?! He even said no one would..." Leaning back in her chair the girl resumes the arms across chest posture, chin thrust out as she watches the pair of them, "is /that/ how Gabe got the dark eye then? Goodness gracious. When my dad hears how dragon-folks /really/ act." She sounds darkly amused. P'ax finishes up with Taikren's hair, pushing it back into place to make sure he got everything neatened up. "It's complicated. Don't worry about it too much. It's all been taken care of." He licks his lips and smiles, reaching to pat the Candidate's shoulder awkwardly. "Anyway girls. Try not to worry too much about things. I'll, uh, see you around." Taikrin runs a hand back through her hair pretty much the second P'ax has finished with it, and finally twists around to peer up at the younger rider. "Thanks. An' f'r th'bone, too. Gabe'll be happy we got it." She doesn't flinch at the pat, but her smile does twist in an awkward way. "'m sure we'll get it straightened out." A sidelong glance is directed to Warucori. "Don't reckon Weyr-folk're any odder'n Hold-folk, y'know. 'Cept maybe W'chek." Warucori closes her eyes, as though that might shut off all the conflicting thoughts. When she opens them, her smile comes back, "I'm sure it's something of a personal nature I'd rather not know overly much about." She turns and admires Taikrin's new style, "now that looks so nice. Not too short I think. At least you can run fingers through." |
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