Logs:The first time Taikrin hated K'del!
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| RL Date: 4 March, 2010 |
| Who: Gabrion, Xeoshen, Taikrin, Warucori |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: The candidates sit around gossiping in the barracks. Unfortunately, one of the rumors is that the rockfall that nearly killed all of the convicts (including the candidates) was masterminded by none other than Weyrleader K'del! |
| Where: Candidate Barracks, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 12, Month 2, Turn 22 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: K'del/Mentions, Tiriana/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: This is it! The root of all dislike that Taikrin has for K'del. It all started right here! |
| Gabrion makes his way into the candidate quarters with a decidedly odd and inscrutable expression on his face. Trailing behind him are one, two, three, four, FIVE teens wearing healer apprentice uniforms and knots, and carrying bags. Four boys and a girl. "So... you just find an empty cot and you can put your stuff in the trunk. I think most of these ones up here are taken, you'll probably have to go back there somewhere," he says, waving vaguely. Three of the boys and the girl start off in that direction, a couple of them looking ready to wrestle one another for the best cot, but one of the boys, a tanned and dark-haired fellow about Gabe's age, lingers behind. "Which bed is yours?" he asks Gabe. "Are there any empty ones by yours?" Taikrin has been lounging on a cot very near towards the entrance -- a cot that is decidedly /not/ hers -- and steadily annoying the candidates around her for the last several minutes. She's got a small rock in hand that she's occupying herself with by throwing it up and catching it... except that every fifth or sixth time it bounces off the bunk above her with a decently loud *clang*. Gabrion and his entourage's entrance is caught out of the corner of her eye, and -- still lounging -- she rolls her head over in that direction. "Oi, you bringin' the infirmary t'us or somethin'?" is called over in their general direction. Gabrion blinks at Taikrin, puzzled for a moment. Then as he finally places her, he smiles. "No," he says. "I mean, not exactly. These guys are all - they're from Healer Hall. They all got searched." He shakes his head a little, as if he can't quite believe it. "Uh, this is Firistan," he says, gesturing toward the young man who's standing next to him. Standing, actually, quite close to him. The body language between the pair of them suggests that there might be some kind of relationship there. Gabe doesn't introduce the other four candidates, who are picking out their beds and unpacking their things and chattering gaily as if Gabe and Firistan and, for that matter, everyone else in the room, didn't exist. "This is uh... dang. I forgot your name," Gabe admits sheepishly to Taikrin. "Sorry." "Huh. Barracks full of healers. Guess I can't complain." Taikrin waves her casted right arm in greeting; she's still idly tossing the stone in her left. "Taikrin. Y'know, the one th'rocks seem t'like so much." After a moment's pause, she swings herself up into a seated position with a grunt. Luckily she's not wearing boots as she tucks her socked feet up underneath her body on the stolen cot. "Riders really go all th'way t'Fort t'get candidates, huh? Guess they got tired of all us criminals." It's said with a wry grin, though, not at all threatening. Yet. "It wasn't exactly planned," Gabe explains, cutting a glance at Firistan. "P'ax gave me a ride up there to visit Firistan," he gestures at him, "and well. Yyth kind of got carried away." He smirks. Firistan gives a shy smile and wave to Taikrin, and whispers to Gabe, "Convicts?" He's not very good at whispering quietly. Taikrin eyes Firistan up and down with a critical eye, then gives a one-shouldered shrug. "Y'all really that eager t'quit yer learnin' for chores, huh? Thought you crafter sorts liked all that readin' and stuff." The stone is tossed again, idly, as she pauses to think. Then: "Riders'll give candidates rides places, just t'visit people, like? How much'd he charge ya?" Warucori slips into the barracks looking flustered. She gives the new faces a double-look and then offers a wave and smile on her way to her cot. "wow...do we have enough cots?" she murmurs. Gabrion laughs weakly. "He didn't charge me. We're... friends. He just did me a favor." At that, Firistan's face darkens as suddenly as a summer stormcloud. "Yeah, /friends/," he repeats, looking supremely jealous. Gabe starts to answer, then just shakes his head. "Don't start," he mutters quietly. Firistan glowers, but politeness dictates that he answer Taikrin's question, so he says, "It's a chance at /Search/. That's - I mean, who wouldn't give up something, for that?" Just then, two of the new boys, having finished their unpacking, saunter towards the chatting group, looking as if they owned the place. "Well hello there," the handsomer of the two says to Taikrin; he gives Warucori a wink. "We didn't have any trouble finding spots, no." Gabrion is watching the pair with active dislike, and Firistan is now staring at the floor. "Didn't even charge ya? Man... what kinda place they runnin' here anyways?" Taikrin shakes her head, apparently disgusted with the very idea of doing things for free. Firistan's sudden descent into jealousy is marked with a pair of raised eyebrows, but she doesn't comment on it precisely. Instead, she eyes the two approaching boys with amused interest. "We're just positively rollin' in the menfolk now." Lips spread into a terribly amused grin, and her gaze locks on Warucori's, if the other girl notices. "Well, boy-folk, maybe. More a size for you, eh girl?" Apparently she's forgotten Warucori's name, if she ever knew it. Warucori gives the flirty-boy a bewildered look at his wink, after the utterly baffled look for Taikrin. SHe settles down on the edge of her cot, smoothing her dress into place primly. "I think there were already quite enough boys here...besides, it seems they are all more interested in eachother than girls." "Nobody's every complained about my size before," the handsome boy quips, to the amusement of his companion. "Aren't you going to introduce us, Gabrion? ...well, nevermind," he says, waving a hand with contempt for Gabe and Firistan both. "I'm Zekaro," he says, smiling brightly at both girls and pouring on the charm. "And this is my friend Emris." Emris, slouching casually next to Zekaro, smiles at them too. "Hey," he says casually. Both their smiles turn to grimaces of distaste at Warucori's comment, and Zekaro says firmly, "/We/ don't have that problem." Gabe is still frowning at both of them. Finally he looks back to Taikrin and shrugs. "Not everything costs money, if you've got a friend to do you a favor, you know? But I wouldn't pay for rides anyway, both my parents are riders, so..." Another shrug. Firistan perks up at his words. "They're both riders? Can I meet them? Maybe they'll give us a ride," he suggests, only to deflate at Gabe's flat, firm, and unqualified, "No." Xeoshen slips into the barracksm though the crowd near the entrance does make him slow down a bit. "Evenin'." He greets, and raises an eyebrow at the group with Gabrion. "More new faces? Hope we got room." He comments. "Xeoshen." He says by way of intrduction, and nods to Taikrin as well. "Hows yer arm?" He asks her. "Well, there's that, I guess. Would be a problem for you lot of girls." Zekaro's attempt at charm only brings an amused snort from Taikrin; apparently, she's immune. "Well a'course not. Yer such a cute pocket-sized lad, why'd anyone complain?" Her smile is all teeth, predator-like. "Think I'm more'n you could handle, boy. Girly there's more yer speed." The hand with the rock indicates Warucori, briefly, before it goes back to the rhythmic tossing game. "Hey, Xeo-- you hear this?" Gabrion is indicated with a jerk of her chin. "Healer boy brought a bunch o'his closest friends t'play Healer for us. /And/ apparently riders can give people rides all over th'place without /chargin'/ 'em. Don't know what the Weyrwoman's thinkin', not makin' 'em pay marks... an' the arm's fine, thanks." Warucori laughs softly, color rising to her cheeks at the boys remarks, "my goodness. Brass as balls." She looks over the healers as though she doesn't believe any of them actually likes girls--the odds are against them really. "Just a matter of time really." SHe says blithely. "It is nice to meet you though. I'm Cori. Warucori." She includes that to Taikrin as well. "They fit four times this many people in here, during a Pass," Gabe points out. Trust the weyrbred kid to know that sort of thing. "I guess they must put the beds closer together." The tanned, dark-haired boy next to him starts to speak to Xeoshen: "I'm F..." but Zekaro strides forward and interrupts, holding his hand out to Xeoshen in greeting. "Zekaro," he says with a sunny smile. "And this is Emris." Face flaming with embarrassment, Firistan mumbles his own name toward his toes. Emris turns his attention to Warucori and asks her, "Where are you from? Not here, right?" he guesses. Xeoshen blinks at the hand from Zekaro, and takes it. "Uh, well met." He says, and shakes his head. "Nah, I'm from the crom mines, one of the convicts." He admits, well, they did already meet Taiktin. Speeking of the girl, who turns to look at her as she speeks. "GFer free? Really? I might have ta take advantage of it if I don't impress." He smirks, and looks back to the group of healers. "Yeah well, we coulda used ya a seven day or so ago, when that stupid tunnel collapsed." He remarks, and nods to Gabe. "Aye, true, are they even usin' the other room of cot yet?" He asks, there were too doors, he assumed they were both quarters, and hey, he likes both genders! So far! Taikrin's attention darts back to Warucori, eyebrows rising towards her hairline. "Brass as /balls/?" A quick bark of laughter escapes. "Ain't never heard that one before, girly!" Despite having just heard Warucori's name, well, apparently Taikrin's decided that 'girly' fits her better. With all these people standing around, she finally swings her legs over the edge of her purloined cot and stands, stretching her back out with a soft grunt. "Gettin' pretty crowded in 'ere, four times more or no. How many y'reckon they're gonna bring in here fer twenty eggs?" It appears to be directed at Gabrion; she's ignoring the other healers for the most part, aside from the smirk that still plays around her lips. Warucori crosses one leg over the other and folds her hand atop her knee with a most prim expression. "You hasn't heard it before? It's quite a common turn of phrase back home." As she as addressed by Emris she offers a smile and replies, "I'm from a little cothold outside Lemos. I hardly think we'll have a chance with the eggs. But, it's the honor of standing right?" Gabrion shrugs. "Forty?" he guesses. "I bet we have close to enough, already. So they won't be sending out more riders, probably. But you know, if someone's out and their dragon finds someone... they bring them in. I doubt they'll open that other room up unless every cot in here is taken, though." Firistan listens avidly to all this. He's still standing there with his bag slung over his shoulder, and Gabe says to him, "You should like, go claim a bed so you can unpack your stuff." Firistan glances at Gabe's cot, surrounded by claimed cots, and sighs. "Yeah," he says, and wanders toward the empty part of the barracks. Zekaro removes his hand from Xeoshen's, taken aback by the introduction. "Did you say you were a /convict/?" he asks, flabbergasted. Emris glances over briefly, but decides to just carry on his conversation with Warucori. "Right," he agrees. "I mean, the chances are pretty low for anyone to even get searched, much less impress. Still... if I could impress..." he's a little starry-eyed at the thought of it. Xeoshen blinks. "Brass as balls?" He says, and laughs. "Nice one Cori." He remarks, and then shrugs. "Fer some of us, name the cons, it could mean more then just standing, if we impress it means freedom as well." He says, and looks back to Zekaro with a raised eyebrow. "Aye a convict." He says, dropping the mans hand. "Taoi here says she heard that if ya eat plenty of red meat before hand, it'll lure them over." He says, though whether that was true is still up for debate. "Must be a Lemos thing, I ain't never been out that far south," Taikrin shoots towards Warucori. "Brass as balls..." The phrase gets an amused headshake, but she doesn't linger on it. Rather, she returns her attention to Gabrion and the discussion at hand. "Twice's many candidates as eggs, eh? Seems kinda overkill, like." Her eyes roll at Xeoshen, then, and all his talk of freedom. "Oi, Xeo, c'mon. Ain't like y'get that much longer either way. An' this job ain't so bad," says the one with less than a month left on /her/ sentence. "An' it's true, y'know." A firm nod accompanies her assurance to Zekaro. "Y'wanna eat lots of meat." Was there some sort of special emphasis placed on the last word in that phrase? And is her grin even more toothy than it was a moment ago? Warucori makes a face about the reminder of the convicts and sighs to Zekaro, "they are awful. This weyr is going to be full of killers, thugs and thieves and all with dragons to bully people along." She bites at her lower lip in real, honest fear. She sulks a bit over this and then shakes it off, "I hear that if you eat meat...it'll make the baby dragons want to eat you and they will tear you right in two if you're between one of them and the one they are trying to get at." "It's so the dragons have plenty of choice," Gabrion explains matter-of-factly while Firistan, across the barracks, selects a bed some distance from the other healer apprentices and starts to unpack his things. "I've never heard anything about eating meat being helpful, though, or hurting, either," he adds, deadpan serious. "That's probably an old auntie's tale." The bit about killers with dragons gets a glance, but he does not comment on it. Zekaro, on the other hand, looks as if he's just been dropped into a nest of rattlesnakes and he doesn't want to get too close to /any/ of them. "A convict," he repeats, edging away from Xeoshen. Then: "Emris. I think we should go see how Osvald and Aurille are doing," he says pointedly, and catches the other fellow's eye before briskly walking back toward where the others are now lounging on their beds and talking. Reluctantly, Emris takes his leave of Warucori with a tilt of his head. "Talk to you later," he says, and then he follows after on Zekaro's heels. Gabe relaxes considerably when they're out of earshot, looking much relieved. Xeoshen eyes Cori. "Now ya look here! I aint never hurt or killed anybody." He says. "I stole /clothes/, that were in /storage/, I went there when noone was /around/, so I do not appreciate you bunching me in with men who killed people oughtta cold blood just because I'm a convict!" Thus he peers at the ones leaving too, and then back to Cori. "I served my damn time, and /deserve/ a chance at a new life." He says, and before he does do anything stupid, he'll go over to his cot to sulk. Hmph, thanks for ruining his decent mood. "Oi, ain't none of us killers!" Taikrin protests this point -- and only this point -- quite vehemently not a second after Xeoshen. "Not /yet/ anyways." The look that's slanted at Warucori is a bit dire, but it's only momentary. "I think you maybe got sooner stuff t'worry about than baby dragons eaten' you. Maybe they got /too/ much choice right now." A flick of a glance follows the departure of the new Healer-candidates, and she doesn't bother to suppress the snort of disdain that follows. "Sharding idiots, if I was gonna shank 'em, I wouldn't do it /now/." Well, that's both reassuring and pleasant. "Don't you go shankin' 'em now, Xeo, it'd ruin that shiny new life y'keep goin' on about," she calls after the retreating convict. Warucori looks pleased that she's not the only timid one around the place. She glances after poor Firistan, watching him pick out his cot so far away and she notes, for his benifit, "It's not as though you can't come by and visit. The barracks are pretty much just for sleeping." A quick look to Gabrion, to see if he minds--afterall, he might not ant the jealous-emo-kid attached to his hip. She blanches at Xeoshen's reply to her and Taikrin's added to it she goes even whiter. "That's what I heard! I heard that one of you convicts strung up some old man...f-for his boots." she gulps a few times, wild-eyed. "Please don't hurt me." Gabrion doesn't seem to mind. If body language is any indication, the attachment is mutual. Firistan looks up from his unpacking and smiles shyly at Warucori, and Gabe smiles at him. That smile turns into a choked off laugh. "They're not going to hurt you," he tells Warucori. "The Weyrleader would probably personally arrange for another cave-in, if they did. Think about it. Who's gonna mess up their chance at standing?" Is he defending the convicts? Yes, he is. In a manner of speaking. But with that, he seems to be done, for he gives a general wave to the group and wanders over to help Firistan finish the last of his unpacking. Then he says to him, "C'mon, I'll show you the bathing room. It's bigger than the one they got at Healer, it's real nice." That gets ready agreement, and the two of them walk out together - not hand in hand, but they might as well be. Gabrion has left. Right, so she was calling /all of them/ killers, just because of one of them, yeah, that was helping Xeoshen's mood /so/ much. Buyt the girl in fear aparently, darts out of the quarters before more can be said to her. Gabrion and his not lover get a nod though as they leacve, hey, Gabe defended them after all. He then looks to Taikrin. "Bunch of assumin' idiots! Ya think the miners woulda brought /killers/ with them? I thought people were getting past lumping us like that." He mutters. It is not Warucori's fear that Taikrin latches on to, nor is it Gabrion's somewhat lackluster convict defense. Rather, it's: "The Weyrleader'd arrange for /what/?!" Anyone paying attention would note that Taikrin's gone even whiter than her normally pale skin tone. So caught up in this revelation that she fails to deliver a satisfying parting shot at Warucori's expense. "Did he--" She pivots on a heel to follow Gabrion's progress with narrowed eyes, then demands of Xeoshen, "Did he just say th' /Weyrleader/ arranged th'fall? 'Cause, I heard rumors maybe someone rigged it, but--!" Spots of color begin to bloom in her cheeks. "They /really/ thinkin' we're all killers what should be strung up? I thought th'Weyrleader thought better'n that!" Xeoshen eyes Gabrion, and then Taikrin. "I dun think he rigged it, he was sayin' he would if we hurt anybody." Yeah, like that was helping, right? "Why would the weyrleader wanna kill candidates? Wouldn't that get him on the Weyrwoman's badside? Ya said Tiriana was pretty understandin' of us." He pauses. "Then again, from what I hear, not many here like the Weyrleader." It's going to take more than that to stop Taikrin's rage-train from leaving station. "It /ain't/ a jokin' matter! People died! We almost died! I could'a lost my arm!" The casted limb in question is brandished in a way that would be threatening if not for the whole broken bone bit. "Maybe he /ain't/ so harmless like he looks! Th' /Weyrwoman/," special emphasis is placed on the title, along with a pointed look at Xeoshen, "--seems a right sort. Maybe it's the Weyrleader what's shady. Maybe he /is/ tryin' t'kill us off, now she ain't gonna get rid of us." Xeoshen snorts. "I don't see it as jokin' either, I was in there too, remember?" He asks her. "And people died, but more people came and dug us out, and now we don't even have ta go back there." Atleast while they're candidates, though Xeo might be returning there. "Maybe, but aint like we can go around accusin' him of it without proof." He points out. "Well we oughta--" Xeoshen's rationality does, finally, manage to quell some of Taikrin's over-the-top anger. "Ain't no proof but rumor, yer right," she concedes, albiet unwillingly. "D'you know which of th'miners was lookin' into th'fall?" A deep, somewhat shaky breath is inhaled, and after a moment she's at least managed to get a leash on her temper. "Some've gotta go back there, though. An' he might come after us in a different way, like. We gotta be prepared." "If we start acusin' him of doin' it, without anyway ta prove it, he could have us kicked out, and shipped by ta the mines, and Tiriana could probably not do nothin' about it." Xeoshen points out. "Uh, I canna think of his name right now. It's the stocky one, who's about ya tall, with spikey hair." He says, using his hands to show the mans appropxiamte height. The color has begun fading from Taikrin's cheeks, though there's still some heat left in her voice. "Just gotta be careful, like, while we figure it out. Y'can't tell Saliqa-- girl couldn't keep her mouth shut t'save her life. Or ours." The rock, which has been clutched quite tightly in her left hand, is given an experimental bounce. "I gotta think about this. Maybe find what's-his-name." She turns, then, and heads back towards her bunk. "Talk t'ya later, Xeo. Remember-- don't /tell/ nobody." And Taikrin's insistence on this matter probably means half a dozen candidates have picked up the rumor and will begin eagerly spreading it in a matter of minutes. |
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