NorCon MUSH - User contributions [en]

Logs:Hatching Day in the Candidate Quarters

2014-07-20T04:36:01Z

Jayzin:

{{ Log
| who = Jadzia, Jayzin, Quinlys, Tolman, Valenros
| where = Candidate Quarters, High Reaches Weyr
| what = Candidates ''wait''. And talk. And wait some more.
|when=Day 13, Month 4, Turn 36
|gamedate=2014.07.18
| quote = "Hard to believe that the day is really here."
| weather =
| categories = 
| mentions = Aishani, Azaylia, K'del, R'hin
| ooc = Tolman by K'zin
| icons = jadzia.jpg, jayzin showtime.gif, quinlys lookingdown.jpg, tolman 2.jpg, v'ros bothered.png
| log = '''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 five neat rows of five beds each allowing up to fifty people to sleep in one cavern, although one of those caverns is presently largely closed off. 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.
----

Early morning brought excitement to the barracks. With the news that Hraedhyth's eggs are near ready to hatching, and nothing but helping prepare for the hatching feast left to do, there is a near tangible edge of tension as the day draws on. Now, with sunset drawing near and the day very nearly over, some have begun to wonder if the eggs are ever going to hatch. Tolman, a lanky lad of seventeen, sits on the edge of his cot the white robe laid out next to him. "Hard to believe that the day is really here." He says it loudly enough that those nearby can certainly hear him, though he doesn't seem to be saying it to any person in particular.

If Jayzin is ''excited'' about the eggs that are near hatching, he seems to be very composed despite it. Maybe it has a bit to do with the flask that he has finally uncovered from his trunk once they are released from their various preparations. He is prepared, even if he has thrown aside the white robe while digging for it. With it, he flops back onto his own cot, heels kicked up easily as he uncorks the flask for a quick sip, watching the rest of the barracks.

A tidy cot nearby Tolman is occupied, by a prone Valenros, hands pillowed under his head. He's just staring up at the ceiling with void eyes, still as someone sleeping without a simple emotion on his pale face. At the sound of the other candidate's familiar voice, he turns his head in that direction, his brown eyes shifting their focus. "Still time.. to run." That's real encouraging.

By now Jadzia is laying on her cot with her knees bent and her arms folded behind her head. Her eyes are closed but that doesn't mean she's sleeping or otherwise not completely aware of her surroundings. Too aware for her own taste, possibly. "I wish it'd hurry up and get over with already."

Tolman's eyes sweep across the others, lingering a moment on Jayzin's flask, though not covetously. "I still don't want to." Run, that is. "Do you?" He asks of Valenros. Then to Jadzia, "Do you really? I mean, it could be a 'once in a lifetime' thing, right? Shouldn't we... I don't know, savor it, or something?" The way he looks back to Jayzin invites him to join the conversation.

"It'll be over when it's over," Jayzin offers so casually, as if he's been through this before. (He hasn't, and yet.) Maybe he is a latently blooming philosopher. His gaze flicks from Valenros to Jadzia, laughter in his eyes and caught in his throat even as he lifts his flask again. "But, waiting is never a once in a lifetime thing. Whole lives are spent waiting."

Savoring things is not Valenros's style. "No.. no.. not now. Not after.. everything." He casts a suspicious glance over Jadzia, his face becoming pinched and he pushes up with the palms of his hands, resting on his elbows. "Why is.. why are you in a hurry? Why.. get it over with? You have somewhere to go?" His attention moves freely between Jadzia and Tolman, though he does spare a curious look for the guy with the flask - maybe he looks kind of like he could use a drink too.

One of her legs starts bouncing just slightly. It's fidgeting in a way that the blonde doesn't usually succumb to. Jadzia finally sits up, glaring across at Jayzin and his flask. Mostly his flask. "Can you not?" is said to Jayzin before she's glancing over at Tolman and Valenros. "If I don't Impress, I'll go to another Weyr and try again there. I already have someone that will take me." So, not 'once in a lifetime' anything.

Tolman concedes Jayzin's point with a nod and a soft, "'Suppose that's true." To Jadzia though, he's shaking his head, "No, I mean once in a lifetime if you ''do'' Impress. It's like... your last hours just being you, not you the dragonrider, you know?" He looks to Valenros. Does he know?

"Why? Do you want some?" Jayzin offers to Jadzia easily, jiggling the flask so that the liquid sloshes audibly inside. Because clearly when people ask you to not, they just want to as well. "There'll be another clutch here, soon enough. I'll likely stay through then, at least, if I don't Impress." He doesn't seem too concerned with the prospect, though, as he rolls a shoulder in a casual shrug.

"So.. you 'want' to Impress?" Valenros blinks, looking surprised. "You.. that's what you want out of life? And you.. will keep going until you.. get it?" Or don't, but it's best left unsaid. For Tolman's benefit, he nods, and then sits up fully on his cot, legs still extended. "Yeah.. yeah, just, you in your own.. head.. for now.. never again until.. you know.. you die." A shrug follows and he swings his legs over his bed, aiming himself towards Jayzin. "I'll.. I could use.. some."

Sorry, Tolman. Jadzia isn't the right choir for that preaching. "I'd ''love'' to finally not be me." If she weren't so... whatever she is right now, she might not say that much. But she ''is'' whatever she is right now. She glares at Jayzin, jaw tense, but doesn't answer him. Instead she lays back again, bent leg back to bouncing, and answers Valenros, "Of course I want to Impress. You shouldn't be here if you don't ''want'' to Impress."

"Too bad. You could really use to loosen up before you get out there," Jayzin continues to offer to Jadzia lightly, even where she meets his previous one with silence. But then, really, it's too late because he's tossing his flask over to Valenros. "Don't drink too much if you can't hold your liquor. Wouldn't do to vomit on the Sands."

"I want to Impress." This comes a touch defensively from Tolman though no one asked him. "''I'' wouldn't want to drink before dodging hatchlings with really sharp and clumsy claws and lots of teeth." Also not asked of him, but volunteered as a very pretty start to some haunting worries for the Sands. He is watching though, the interaction between the other candidates, the questions and answers. "I'll stand for Iesaryth's clutch, too, if I don't make it." He nods to Jayzin's idea, rising and shaking out his robe as if that'll help somehow.

There's Tolman with that talk about sharp dragons again. Valenros shakes his head as he catches the flask, raising it in salute to Jayzin. "Thanks." He takes a long swig and then tosses it back, flopping back on his bed. "I don't think.. no one here wants to 'not' Impress, but I wouldn't go from Weyr to Weyr.. uh, trying to," he fills in helpfully for Jadzia, easing back into a relaxed pose.

Jadzia's gaze is drawn to the flask again. And since it's Valenros with it now, she gives ''him'' a dirty look. And then she's turning onto her side. To face ''away'' from them. "I'll stay for Iesaryth's," she says even though she's not facing them anymore and none of them probably care that much what the cranky blonde is planning on doing.

Jayzin catches his flask easily, and despite Jadzia's turning away (or perhaps contrarily because of it), he moves to tuck it away back in his trunk. He hides it in a pair of socks, just in case. "All of us except for ten, likely, will be there for Iesaryth's," he dismisses easily.

"I dunno, some people do it once and never want to face the Sands again." Tolman answers Jayzin now. "I've seen it happen. Known other apprentices." He shrugs, laying the robe back on his bed. He glances toward Jadzia's back, then Valenros with a 'what are you gonna do?' kind of rhetorical look, if looks can be rhetorical. "I'm gonna go get a nip of something so I'm not starving when I hit the Sands," which, admittedly, may not be the way to go if one is trying not to vomit on the sands. Still, he gives a little general wave and heads toward the nighthearth and its nearby supply of food and drink.

Valenros returns Jadzia's dirty look with a blank look of his own, an annoyed expression taking its place once she turns her back. "I'll.. be here, for the next, if I.. don't Impress." But he won't be jumping from Weyr to Weyr apparently. "Waiting does.. suck though." He exhales slowly and turns his head towards Jayzin, "What's in there?" The flask, undoubtedly. Tolman is easily dismissed with a wave.

Because Jadzia is in a bad mood, it might be strange that she doesn't offer back any other biting remarks to the one particular candidate that appears to be pushing her buttons. But she doesn't. She just curls up, one arm under her pillow, and stares off the other way. Probably making the candidate a few cots down a little uncomfortable since they're making a point not to make eye contact with her.

"Rum," answers Jayzin dismissively, the rest of his things tucked carefully back into his trunk without being actually tidy. "Don't worry about the waiting. You'll spend enough time waiting, if you choose to wait."

It's as the sun begins to drop below the spires, at the end of this early spring day, that the humming commences. There have been signs all day, of course - it's no surprise - but there's a gut-punch to it, too, as the birth song of the dragons begins resonating through the weyr, echoing deeply enough to be felt inside as well as out. It's time; it's unmistakably time.

Listlessly lying on his cot - even after the talk such a short time earlier - Valenros doesn't instantly react when the humming starts; his is a delayed reaction, a glance to the left and right, as he takes in everyone's emotions first. "Shit," he swears, pushing himself up and running a hand through his short hair. Next, well, naturally comes the robes. He grabs for his, hastily knocking off another garment that was draped off the end of his bed. "It's.. it's.." To anyone nearby, his eyes are wide and he looks a smidge paler than normal.

Humming is not a sound that Jadzia has heard before. The start of it makes her sit up, forgetting her tense crankiness long enough to figure out what it actually ''is''. And once that's out of the way, it's so much easier to focus on changing into her crumpled up robe than worry about whether or not she's had anything to drink today.

It's only a minute or two after the humming begins that Quinlys bursts through the doorway of the candidate barracks, wearing wherhide trousers and a thin shirt, and looking calm, collected, and... well, okay, just a ''little'' excited. The red-haired bluerider beams, glancing around as she draws herself up against the wall next to the door. "Okay, people," she calls, voice aimed to carry. "Robes on, hair up, boots laced, and let's get going."

You know who doesn't panic? Jayzin. Just as calm as he was earlier, he merely pushes himself to his feet, streeeetching and tucking away his knife into his belt. The same belt that will later get put over the robe that he gets from the trunk.

The robe goes on, Valenros is quick about it, lacing up his boots and then smoothing back his hair in one gesture. Then he simply stands, silent and uncomfortable, waiting instructions with a sickly pallor. Hopefully this one doesn't erf.

Jadzia strips down and braids her hair quickly ''before'' finishing with putting her robe all the way on. It's not like her standing around naked will distract anyone right now with that humming and excitement and that person puking over there.

"No knives." Quinlys is good at taking knives away from people; good at delivering scathing glances as she meanders down the rows, too. She holds out her hand with the obvious intention of taking that knife from Jayzin, gaze flicking from him to the others, then back again. "Start lining up, people. We need to get out there before anything happens. Go, go go." ''She'' has a tapestry to pull back, a door to unlock; a door that promptly gets swung open as she gestures for the candidates to precede her.

Jayzin is reluctant at giving over his knife, but he does. He does, with a longing glance cast back towards it as it disappears with the Weyrlingmaster. But, soon enough he is ready to go and moves to join the line of candidates onto the Sands.
}}

[[Category:RP_Logs]]
[[Category:General_Logs]]
[[Category:Clutch_36_Logs]]

Logs:Play Nice

2014-07-20T04:35:04Z

Jayzin:

{{Log
|who=Jayzin, Jo
|what=A Vijay meets an unrepentant thief.
|where=Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr
|when=Day 18, Month 4, Turn 35
|gamedate=2014.07.19
|quote="Didn't anyone ever teach you not to steal from a Vijay?"
|weather=
|mentions=Aishani, Jyani,
|ooc=Some crass language. It's par with Jo.
|icons-new=Icon jo bad.jpg, Icon jayzin shots.gif
|icons=
|log=The place is crowded. Now with the big hatching there and gone, it’s back to the usual swing of things amongst the Weyr’s dragonriders. The place is stocked with Glacier riders crowding the dartboard, their loud and raucous calls always seeming a step louder than the din of voices. Jo – wrapped in her black leather riding gear and her hair its usual frizz – claims a bar stool near the her Glacier wingriders at the counter. It’s obvious she’s part of them, but she’s not openly engaging with them as she works on downing a shot.

Jayzin is without any knot denoting his status when he does wander into Snowasis for the evening. Without it, it's easy for him to slip in amongst the dragon rider's with his own dark leather jacket and make his way towards the bar. "Two fingers of whiskey," he orders as soon as he has squeezed himself into a free spot and gotten the bartender's attention, turning to hitch his back and elbows against the wooden bar to scan the crowd as he waits for his drink.

Perhaps it’s the jacket that gets Jo’s attention away from her shot glass. Her dark eyes slide over towards it as he orders, flicking up towards his face only long enough for him not to notice it. It’s with casual ease that she’s suddenly straightening up off the stool and fishing on her jacket to toss a mark piece down on the counter, tossing back her hair as one of the Glacier brownriders call out to her, “Hey Jo! Bring that tight ass over here and play a round with us!” There’s an answering snort from her as she takes a step from the counter – a swaying step, even – the look she sends the man’s way either interpreted as pure trouble or pure seduction. A full glass of amber sets on the counter at her fingers right then and she picks it up with a nod to the bar tender heading Jayzin’s way first before finally answering back, “If I do that, ya’ll lose all the clothes on yer back to me-“ And, well. It seems as if while turning she stumbles right into Jayzin, the side of her falling right into him as she tries in vain to save her precious drink from spilling.

The exchange certainly draws the attention of the young man at the bar, his gaze flicking between the dart player and Jo before lingering on the latter for a moment. But then his own drink is being slid across the bar and he starts to straighten as well to retrieve it, right before Jo's stumble. He murmurs a simple, "Woah, hello, there." He is a gentleman enough to try to help her gain her balance, fingers catching at her arms. But, then, he is also Vijay enough that one hand lingers in its grip as the other checks his pockets.

Yeah, Jayzin might do well to check his pockets. Maybe he doesn’t notice the slight shift of Jo’s wiry frame against his jacket as she makes a show of trying to right herself. Some of her drink spill to the floor, but she seems to not notice. “Woah, yerself,” is her greeting, her gaze flicking quickly from head to toe before straightening. She brushes something off her black jacket idly before trying to step back from him, and when she notices the heckler still staring in their direction, the look she sends seems to be enough to have him looking way. Back to Jayzin, “Sorry ‘bout that, darlin’,” she says, keeping her drink aloft as she starts taking slow steps back from him. Like she has someplace else in the bar to be. “So crowded up in here, all thanks to that hatchin’.”

"Are you in a rush to be somewhere? Stay, I'll buy you a drink," Jayzin offers, for all that the dragonrider already has a full, fresh drink. His grip doesn't tighten when she starts to step away, but nor does he release it himself. He didn't have much on himself before the bump, and when he reaches to check his marks and finds himself coming up empty--. Well, is it actually ''amusement'' that dances in warm, chocolate eyes as they watch Jo? "Or maybe not. I seem to be broke, at the moment."

When Jayzin doesn’t release her, it gives Jo the opportunity to ''really'' look at him. “Why ya wanna buy me a drink?” comes quick on the heels of his offer, and then her eyes narrow a fraction. “Wait—yer one of those candidates, right?” As if she’s trying to recall his face. “Well, not anymore, obviously. Actually I was headin’ to grab one of those tables back there before someone else does-“ but then he notices that he’s lighter on marks and not a single tick or expression flickers across her face as she asks, after a beat, “Shit, really? Ain’ surprised, with this crowd. Can’ trust no one after a hatchin’, darlin’.” Her tone seems to say, Tough Luck. Blame it on the strangers milling about, right?

"I'm sticking around for Iesaryth's eventual clutch," Jayzin confirms and explains all at once, though his lips only start growing into a wider, crooked smile at Jo's response to his sudden predicament. He rocks forward on the balls of his toes, moving closer to the woman with his hand still caught on her arm. Close enough to lean in and murmur lowly, "Didn't anyone ever teach you not to steal from a Vijay?" A pause, as he steps backwards, before he adds, "I suppose you'll just have to buy ''me'' the drink."

Yeah, while Jo seems very aware that Jayzin still has a hold on her, she doesn’t seem to be moving it just yet. Not when he’s saying interesting things like he just did. She eyes that smile of his with a bare one of her own that close to being dangerous, drawling back, “Lookin’ hard at becomin’ one of us, is that it?” and she nods right towards the loud Glacier riders playing darts. And then, he name-drops. She does go silent, some of that poker face cracking with a brief flare of eyes that stares right into his own as if she could find the truth of his words there. Chin lifts as the mask falls back into place and the brazen look of defiance steals into her frame as she says, “Related to Shani. Should’ve known with ''that'' smile.” She snorts, neither confirming nor denying the theft but she ''does'' lean her frame more against him and lowers her voice as she murmurs, “We’ve got mutual friends, Vijay. I don’ steal from friends of friends. Tell ya what, though. Gimme that knife ya got in yer pocket and I’ll buy yer that drink. Friend.” The curve of her lips spell many things: amusement, and challenge, definitely.

Well, now. Jayzin certainly isn't going to protest to Jo leaning against him, and that free hand even curves to rest lightly at the small of her back, just under the protection of that black jacket. "There are certain people that are interested in having me Impress," is all he answers to her first question, dismissive even as that smile lingers. "Go ahead and keep it. I have plenty more where it came from." He doesn't move his hands away to get it for her, though, as he meets that challenge with easy interest.

“Really,” Jo challenges ''that'' first statement. Jayzin is evasive and Jo is leaning a bit more casually than deliberately. She shifts a glance behind him, then to the side before she asks, “And whatcha got for these people to be interested in, hmm?” That dark, piercing gaze travels his body openly, and she’s not shy about it. “Other than detectin’ a pickpocket, that is.” Keeping her gaze on him, she turns her head towards her drink and downs half of it before leaning pass him to set it down. “Why not the knife?” now she asks. “Means a lot to ya?”

"That, I have no idea," Jayzin answers on the topic of what he has, the curve of his lips taking on more of a smirk than a smile as Jo looks him over. "I do also make a very good pancake." His fingers slide from her arm at the question about the knife, reaching into his pocket before he produces it with a flourish, holding it between them with the tips of his fingers. "Not this one. There are others that have some sentimental value, but as you said, I wouldn't trust anyone in this crowd." He offers it casually towards the dragonrider, adding, "You can have it. Though, should I ask why you want it?"

"Ya gotta have somethin' they want," Jo counters, seeming to not believe Jayzin's answer. "Someone wants ya on a dragon, it's cuz yer useful." She talks like she should know, the look less suggestive and more meaningful before it goes. A brow lifts on the pancake comment, even, before she gives up a throaty laugh and a, "A Vijay that has some humor. Now I've seen it all. Didn' know more y'all were seepin' into the Weyr," and she pauses to reach over and drain her glass. "Who else is takin' their chances on a clutch?" she's asking far too casually. "Any of ya comin' from Greenfields?" Because, if he can namedrop, then she can too. She turns her gaze on the knife he produces and smirks a bit when he uses her words on her. Long fingers reach out to take it as she says, "Why give it to a thief?" Beat. "Maybe I collect knives," is her response then to his question.

Jayzin murmurs with a slight drawl, assuring, "I have jokes. I have a lot of jokes. But, I am dead serious about the pancakes. I'll have to cook for you one day." The question about Greenfields receives the slight lift of his brows, but the Vijay gives little away besides that. He only answers, "Not that I know of. There's been talk about Searching more for Iesaryth's clutch, but so far--." Well, he gestures to himself as an end to that statement, before he reaches for his own glass of whiskey. To the last, he adds, "I like thieves."

“My, my, aren’ we becomin’ familiar already?” Jo openly teases him, eyeing him like a predator. “Ya don’ even know my name’n here ya are, offerin’ to cook for me. If I steal the coat off yer back, will ya offer to wash my dragon next?” There’s a sort of heady swagger in her tone, and his answer on Greenfields seems to be expected since she says, “Pity. Suppose it is still early on.” The smile lingers even more at his last, the banter seeming to come easy to her as she studies him. Perhaps she lets the pause linger longer than it should before she says, straightening a bit off of him, “Didn’ Shani ever teach ya not to mix with types like me? The types that steal even from a Vijay? We only ''play'' nice in the Weyr.” A warning, maybe. It’s a subtle one, laced with innuendo as she makes a show of pocketing his knife into an inner jacket pocket. She leans away from him to turn towards the bar before adding, “But I’ll be nice on ya, Vijay. I’ll buy ya that drink after all.”

"I don't have any special skills in dragon washing, so I am going to say no to that one," Jayzin counters easily, and he shifts back to leaning against the bar as Jo straightens, lifting his whiskey to drain the glass and set it down purposefully against the bar. "Shani knows that I can take care of myself, even with types like you. I can handle a little danger." His own words hold a curiosity to them, but they are light in mimicking that innuendo, even where the warmth of his gaze slides along the curves wrapped in dark leather.

“Pity, again,” Jo quips on dragon washing, the humor there in her tone. “Suppose that might be somethin’ to pick up in hangin’ around this place, darlin’. Two shots, whiskey,” she calls the last out to the passing bartender, setting down a mark that appears in her hand on the counter. There’s a flicker of a brow at his answer on Aishani, her curiosity barely hidden behind the mask of arrogance she dons far too easily. “The last one that said that ended up runnin’ to the infirmary,” she counters deadpan to him on handling danger. “Whose Shani to ya? Brother? Nephew? Cousin? Ya look close to her age, doncha?” She looks him over briefly. And if she’s notice his gaze on her, well, Jo seems to bask in that kind of attention just fine.

Jayzin nods to the bartender at the order, a simple, friendly gesture before he turns his attention back to Jo with a quick smile. "Do I look like the type to run away?" he questions wryly, meeting arrogance with humor and warmth. "Cousin. Jyani's my sister, actually, if you've met her." The last question has his brow quirking upwards, but he adds easily, "We're close enough in age. Used to play together when we were young."

Jo continues to study him, so when that question comes up, “Thrillseekin’ will land ya in a lot of places, young’in,” she notes smoothly to him. “I would know. Shani’s cousin, huh? Yeah, seen Jyani around her.” Her back against his fingers curve, seeming to test what’s left of his hold on her as she shifts her weight to lean more on the counter next to him. After a moment, “Shani’s good people with me,” she states a bit more soberly, regarding his gaze with her direct own. “We’ve got history. She might not like her blood playin’ with ''this'' fire, darlin’.” That doesn’t seem to be stopping her from moving away from him, however. This must be a pot-calling-the-kettle moment she’s having. She even goes on to hold out her hand to him and say, “Name’s Jo, blue Tacuseth’s. Well met.”

Fingers draw an idle caress against the small of Jo's spine even as she curves jestingly, but as she moves away, Jayzin does slip his hand away from her. "Jayzin," the younger man offers back, moving to take her hand. Those same fingertips are warm, speaking to at least good circulation. "I don't plan on seeking out Aishani's permission, unless you...?" The words trail off in challenge, though his smile lingers crooked. (Even where she calls him young; he doesn't seem to mind.)

The smile curls to that idle caress, and Jo inclines her head when Jayzin gives his name and takes her hand. Her own grip is a firm one, telling of heavily veiled aggression beneath black leather before she releases him. “Jayzin,” she echoes with a nod. “I don’ need permission, Jayzin,” she states on the heels of his next with a sharp look going his way. “I ain’ no teenage slip sneakin’ around passed curfew, neither. This is assumin’ that I’m interested.” She flashes that 3-second grin. Their drinks come right then and she turns to hold one shot out to him as she raises the other one in a sort of silent toast.

"That is what I am assuming," Jayzin counters with warm humor and his own smirk. "It serves me better than assuming the opposite." That is certainly good enough to toast on, because he takes his with a brush of fingers and lifts it in a return salute before throwing it back.

“Such arrogance,” Jo tsks like an aunt as his fingers brush her own. Nevermind that her whole being thrums with it herself. “I remember bein’ just so at ''yer'' age. Ya seem like the sort that hardly lacks in ass, the way yer familiar with me.” She downs her shot right then and sets it down, barely a wince to go through her body as she says after it, “Got stronger.”

The bright flash of teeth that Jayzin shows might be a smile, or it might simply be a brace against alcohol as he swallows the shot down. Neatly and precisely, he sets the shot glass upside down on the bar, before replying, "Thank Faranth I didn't Impress, really. Could you imagine the lack that I would have had to go through then?" A pause, before he adds, "And I suppose that makes this limited danger, in any case. Either I Impress with Iesaryth's clutch and that's that, or I'll likely be heading back."

“I wouldn’ be rushin’ towards that dragon,” Jo notes with a slight roll of her shoulders. “It’s a new fuckin’ game with someone in yer head,” and she lifts two fingers to tap at her temple a couple of times. “But, ya get through the lack. There’s other ways to get off. ‘M sure ya’ll be creative.” Her bold words seems to come easy, not looking the least bit apologetic as she straightens her coat. Something he says towards the end has her regarding him steadily before she says, “Or, stick around either way. The Weyr has a need for folks like us.” There’s even a slight emphasis on the last word. “Seek out Dov in the caverns if yer lookin’ for friends ‘round here,” she offers evenly now. “Tell’em Jo sent ya and ya’ll be covered. Like I said,” and she gives a nod, “the Vijays are welcome with us. Stick around and I’ll try not to steal from ya the next time.”

"Believe me, I'm not rushing towards anything," Jayzin assures with a quiet murmur, his hands splaying in a show of something as he watches Jo straighten. "Dov in the caverns." That he repeats, but not without a hint of question to the words and the crook of his brow. What kind of friends? He doesn't voice it aloud. Instead, he gives a casual salute, fingers lifted and waved casually. "I might object, next time you try. Or I won't. I don't have much worth stealing."

“Ya seem to be rushin’ towards somethin’ tonight,” Jo is quick to murmur to that first, eyes lingering on Jayzin. She then nods when he repeats the given, and it’s as if she can almost hear the unasked question. With a slight shrug, “They don’ like yer family around here,” she says idly, her head tipping slightly to the side to indicate those milling about them. “Folks that came with me? Yer family? Let’s just say that we know a thing or two ‘bout bad reputations. Doesn’ hurt to have someone ‘round that gets that.” She grins at the salute before shoving her hands into her pockets and starts turning towards the exit at his last. All she says to that? “Sounds like a challenge, Mr. Sentimental Knives.”

A warm, quiet laugh follows Jo from the bar, at least before the noise of the rest of Snowasis drowns out the sound, giving her the last words. Jayzin's gaze follows her as well, lingering for a while before he finally turns back to order another round.
}}
{{Categories
|Categories=General Logs
}}

Logs:Play Nice

2014-07-20T04:34:17Z

Jayzin:

{{Log
|who=Jayzin, Jo
|what=A Vijay meets an unrepentant thief.
|where=Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr
|when=Day 18, Month 4, Turn 35
|gamedate=2014.07.19
|quote="Didn't anyone ever teach you not to steal from a Vijay?"
|weather=
|mentions=Aishani, Jyani,
|ooc=Some crass language. It's par with Jo.
|icons-new=Icon jo bad.jpg, Icon jayzin shots.png
|icons=
|log=The place is crowded. Now with the big hatching there and gone, it’s back to the usual swing of things amongst the Weyr’s dragonriders. The place is stocked with Glacier riders crowding the dartboard, their loud and raucous calls always seeming a step louder than the din of voices. Jo – wrapped in her black leather riding gear and her hair its usual frizz – claims a bar stool near the her Glacier wingriders at the counter. It’s obvious she’s part of them, but she’s not openly engaging with them as she works on downing a shot.

Jayzin is without any knot denoting his status when he does wander into Snowasis for the evening. Without it, it's easy for him to slip in amongst the dragon rider's with his own dark leather jacket and make his way towards the bar. "Two fingers of whiskey," he orders as soon as he has squeezed himself into a free spot and gotten the bartender's attention, turning to hitch his back and elbows against the wooden bar to scan the crowd as he waits for his drink.

Perhaps it’s the jacket that gets Jo’s attention away from her shot glass. Her dark eyes slide over towards it as he orders, flicking up towards his face only long enough for him not to notice it. It’s with casual ease that she’s suddenly straightening up off the stool and fishing on her jacket to toss a mark piece down on the counter, tossing back her hair as one of the Glacier brownriders call out to her, “Hey Jo! Bring that tight ass over here and play a round with us!” There’s an answering snort from her as she takes a step from the counter – a swaying step, even – the look she sends the man’s way either interpreted as pure trouble or pure seduction. A full glass of amber sets on the counter at her fingers right then and she picks it up with a nod to the bar tender heading Jayzin’s way first before finally answering back, “If I do that, ya’ll lose all the clothes on yer back to me-“ And, well. It seems as if while turning she stumbles right into Jayzin, the side of her falling right into him as she tries in vain to save her precious drink from spilling.

The exchange certainly draws the attention of the young man at the bar, his gaze flicking between the dart player and Jo before lingering on the latter for a moment. But then his own drink is being slid across the bar and he starts to straighten as well to retrieve it, right before Jo's stumble. He murmurs a simple, "Woah, hello, there." He is a gentleman enough to try to help her gain her balance, fingers catching at her arms. But, then, he is also Vijay enough that one hand lingers in its grip as the other checks his pockets.

Yeah, Jayzin might do well to check his pockets. Maybe he doesn’t notice the slight shift of Jo’s wiry frame against his jacket as she makes a show of trying to right herself. Some of her drink spill to the floor, but she seems to not notice. “Woah, yerself,” is her greeting, her gaze flicking quickly from head to toe before straightening. She brushes something off her black jacket idly before trying to step back from him, and when she notices the heckler still staring in their direction, the look she sends seems to be enough to have him looking way. Back to Jayzin, “Sorry ‘bout that, darlin’,” she says, keeping her drink aloft as she starts taking slow steps back from him. Like she has someplace else in the bar to be. “So crowded up in here, all thanks to that hatchin’.”

"Are you in a rush to be somewhere? Stay, I'll buy you a drink," Jayzin offers, for all that the dragonrider already has a full, fresh drink. His grip doesn't tighten when she starts to step away, but nor does he release it himself. He didn't have much on himself before the bump, and when he reaches to check his marks and finds himself coming up empty--. Well, is it actually ''amusement'' that dances in warm, chocolate eyes as they watch Jo? "Or maybe not. I seem to be broke, at the moment."

When Jayzin doesn’t release her, it gives Jo the opportunity to ''really'' look at him. “Why ya wanna buy me a drink?” comes quick on the heels of his offer, and then her eyes narrow a fraction. “Wait—yer one of those candidates, right?” As if she’s trying to recall his face. “Well, not anymore, obviously. Actually I was headin’ to grab one of those tables back there before someone else does-“ but then he notices that he’s lighter on marks and not a single tick or expression flickers across her face as she asks, after a beat, “Shit, really? Ain’ surprised, with this crowd. Can’ trust no one after a hatchin’, darlin’.” Her tone seems to say, Tough Luck. Blame it on the strangers milling about, right?

"I'm sticking around for Iesaryth's eventual clutch," Jayzin confirms and explains all at once, though his lips only start growing into a wider, crooked smile at Jo's response to his sudden predicament. He rocks forward on the balls of his toes, moving closer to the woman with his hand still caught on her arm. Close enough to lean in and murmur lowly, "Didn't anyone ever teach you not to steal from a Vijay?" A pause, as he steps backwards, before he adds, "I suppose you'll just have to buy ''me'' the drink."

Yeah, while Jo seems very aware that Jayzin still has a hold on her, she doesn’t seem to be moving it just yet. Not when he’s saying interesting things like he just did. She eyes that smile of his with a bare one of her own that close to being dangerous, drawling back, “Lookin’ hard at becomin’ one of us, is that it?” and she nods right towards the loud Glacier riders playing darts. And then, he name-drops. She does go silent, some of that poker face cracking with a brief flare of eyes that stares right into his own as if she could find the truth of his words there. Chin lifts as the mask falls back into place and the brazen look of defiance steals into her frame as she says, “Related to Shani. Should’ve known with ''that'' smile.” She snorts, neither confirming nor denying the theft but she ''does'' lean her frame more against him and lowers her voice as she murmurs, “We’ve got mutual friends, Vijay. I don’ steal from friends of friends. Tell ya what, though. Gimme that knife ya got in yer pocket and I’ll buy yer that drink. Friend.” The curve of her lips spell many things: amusement, and challenge, definitely.

Well, now. Jayzin certainly isn't going to protest to Jo leaning against him, and that free hand even curves to rest lightly at the small of her back, just under the protection of that black jacket. "There are certain people that are interested in having me Impress," is all he answers to her first question, dismissive even as that smile lingers. "Go ahead and keep it. I have plenty more where it came from." He doesn't move his hands away to get it for her, though, as he meets that challenge with easy interest.

“Really,” Jo challenges ''that'' first statement. Jayzin is evasive and Jo is leaning a bit more casually than deliberately. She shifts a glance behind him, then to the side before she asks, “And whatcha got for these people to be interested in, hmm?” That dark, piercing gaze travels his body openly, and she’s not shy about it. “Other than detectin’ a pickpocket, that is.” Keeping her gaze on him, she turns her head towards her drink and downs half of it before leaning pass him to set it down. “Why not the knife?” now she asks. “Means a lot to ya?”

"That, I have no idea," Jayzin answers on the topic of what he has, the curve of his lips taking on more of a smirk than a smile as Jo looks him over. "I do also make a very good pancake." His fingers slide from her arm at the question about the knife, reaching into his pocket before he produces it with a flourish, holding it between them with the tips of his fingers. "Not this one. There are others that have some sentimental value, but as you said, I wouldn't trust anyone in this crowd." He offers it casually towards the dragonrider, adding, "You can have it. Though, should I ask why you want it?"

"Ya gotta have somethin' they want," Jo counters, seeming to not believe Jayzin's answer. "Someone wants ya on a dragon, it's cuz yer useful." She talks like she should know, the look less suggestive and more meaningful before it goes. A brow lifts on the pancake comment, even, before she gives up a throaty laugh and a, "A Vijay that has some humor. Now I've seen it all. Didn' know more y'all were seepin' into the Weyr," and she pauses to reach over and drain her glass. "Who else is takin' their chances on a clutch?" she's asking far too casually. "Any of ya comin' from Greenfields?" Because, if he can namedrop, then she can too. She turns her gaze on the knife he produces and smirks a bit when he uses her words on her. Long fingers reach out to take it as she says, "Why give it to a thief?" Beat. "Maybe I collect knives," is her response then to his question.

Jayzin murmurs with a slight drawl, assuring, "I have jokes. I have a lot of jokes. But, I am dead serious about the pancakes. I'll have to cook for you one day." The question about Greenfields receives the slight lift of his brows, but the Vijay gives little away besides that. He only answers, "Not that I know of. There's been talk about Searching more for Iesaryth's clutch, but so far--." Well, he gestures to himself as an end to that statement, before he reaches for his own glass of whiskey. To the last, he adds, "I like thieves."

“My, my, aren’ we becomin’ familiar already?” Jo openly teases him, eyeing him like a predator. “Ya don’ even know my name’n here ya are, offerin’ to cook for me. If I steal the coat off yer back, will ya offer to wash my dragon next?” There’s a sort of heady swagger in her tone, and his answer on Greenfields seems to be expected since she says, “Pity. Suppose it is still early on.” The smile lingers even more at his last, the banter seeming to come easy to her as she studies him. Perhaps she lets the pause linger longer than it should before she says, straightening a bit off of him, “Didn’ Shani ever teach ya not to mix with types like me? The types that steal even from a Vijay? We only ''play'' nice in the Weyr.” A warning, maybe. It’s a subtle one, laced with innuendo as she makes a show of pocketing his knife into an inner jacket pocket. She leans away from him to turn towards the bar before adding, “But I’ll be nice on ya, Vijay. I’ll buy ya that drink after all.”

"I don't have any special skills in dragon washing, so I am going to say no to that one," Jayzin counters easily, and he shifts back to leaning against the bar as Jo straightens, lifting his whiskey to drain the glass and set it down purposefully against the bar. "Shani knows that I can take care of myself, even with types like you. I can handle a little danger." His own words hold a curiosity to them, but they are light in mimicking that innuendo, even where the warmth of his gaze slides along the curves wrapped in dark leather.

“Pity, again,” Jo quips on dragon washing, the humor there in her tone. “Suppose that might be somethin’ to pick up in hangin’ around this place, darlin’. Two shots, whiskey,” she calls the last out to the passing bartender, setting down a mark that appears in her hand on the counter. There’s a flicker of a brow at his answer on Aishani, her curiosity barely hidden behind the mask of arrogance she dons far too easily. “The last one that said that ended up runnin’ to the infirmary,” she counters deadpan to him on handling danger. “Whose Shani to ya? Brother? Nephew? Cousin? Ya look close to her age, doncha?” She looks him over briefly. And if she’s notice his gaze on her, well, Jo seems to bask in that kind of attention just fine.

Jayzin nods to the bartender at the order, a simple, friendly gesture before he turns his attention back to Jo with a quick smile. "Do I look like the type to run away?" he questions wryly, meeting arrogance with humor and warmth. "Cousin. Jyani's my sister, actually, if you've met her." The last question has his brow quirking upwards, but he adds easily, "We're close enough in age. Used to play together when we were young."

Jo continues to study him, so when that question comes up, “Thrillseekin’ will land ya in a lot of places, young’in,” she notes smoothly to him. “I would know. Shani’s cousin, huh? Yeah, seen Jyani around her.” Her back against his fingers curve, seeming to test what’s left of his hold on her as she shifts her weight to lean more on the counter next to him. After a moment, “Shani’s good people with me,” she states a bit more soberly, regarding his gaze with her direct own. “We’ve got history. She might not like her blood playin’ with ''this'' fire, darlin’.” That doesn’t seem to be stopping her from moving away from him, however. This must be a pot-calling-the-kettle moment she’s having. She even goes on to hold out her hand to him and say, “Name’s Jo, blue Tacuseth’s. Well met.”

Fingers draw an idle caress against the small of Jo's spine even as she curves jestingly, but as she moves away, Jayzin does slip his hand away from her. "Jayzin," the younger man offers back, moving to take her hand. Those same fingertips are warm, speaking to at least good circulation. "I don't plan on seeking out Aishani's permission, unless you...?" The words trail off in challenge, though his smile lingers crooked. (Even where she calls him young; he doesn't seem to mind.)

The smile curls to that idle caress, and Jo inclines her head when Jayzin gives his name and takes her hand. Her own grip is a firm one, telling of heavily veiled aggression beneath black leather before she releases him. “Jayzin,” she echoes with a nod. “I don’ need permission, Jayzin,” she states on the heels of his next with a sharp look going his way. “I ain’ no teenage slip sneakin’ around passed curfew, neither. This is assumin’ that I’m interested.” She flashes that 3-second grin. Their drinks come right then and she turns to hold one shot out to him as she raises the other one in a sort of silent toast.

"That is what I am assuming," Jayzin counters with warm humor and his own smirk. "It serves me better than assuming the opposite." That is certainly good enough to toast on, because he takes his with a brush of fingers and lifts it in a return salute before throwing it back.

“Such arrogance,” Jo tsks like an aunt as his fingers brush her own. Nevermind that her whole being thrums with it herself. “I remember bein’ just so at ''yer'' age. Ya seem like the sort that hardly lacks in ass, the way yer familiar with me.” She downs her shot right then and sets it down, barely a wince to go through her body as she says after it, “Got stronger.”

The bright flash of teeth that Jayzin shows might be a smile, or it might simply be a brace against alcohol as he swallows the shot down. Neatly and precisely, he sets the shot glass upside down on the bar, before replying, "Thank Faranth I didn't Impress, really. Could you imagine the lack that I would have had to go through then?" A pause, before he adds, "And I suppose that makes this limited danger, in any case. Either I Impress with Iesaryth's clutch and that's that, or I'll likely be heading back."

“I wouldn’ be rushin’ towards that dragon,” Jo notes with a slight roll of her shoulders. “It’s a new fuckin’ game with someone in yer head,” and she lifts two fingers to tap at her temple a couple of times. “But, ya get through the lack. There’s other ways to get off. ‘M sure ya’ll be creative.” Her bold words seems to come easy, not looking the least bit apologetic as she straightens her coat. Something he says towards the end has her regarding him steadily before she says, “Or, stick around either way. The Weyr has a need for folks like us.” There’s even a slight emphasis on the last word. “Seek out Dov in the caverns if yer lookin’ for friends ‘round here,” she offers evenly now. “Tell’em Jo sent ya and ya’ll be covered. Like I said,” and she gives a nod, “the Vijays are welcome with us. Stick around and I’ll try not to steal from ya the next time.”

"Believe me, I'm not rushing towards anything," Jayzin assures with a quiet murmur, his hands splaying in a show of something as he watches Jo straighten. "Dov in the caverns." That he repeats, but not without a hint of question to the words and the crook of his brow. What kind of friends? He doesn't voice it aloud. Instead, he gives a casual salute, fingers lifted and waved casually. "I might object, next time you try. Or I won't. I don't have much worth stealing."

“Ya seem to be rushin’ towards somethin’ tonight,” Jo is quick to murmur to that first, eyes lingering on Jayzin. She then nods when he repeats the given, and it’s as if she can almost hear the unasked question. With a slight shrug, “They don’ like yer family around here,” she says idly, her head tipping slightly to the side to indicate those milling about them. “Folks that came with me? Yer family? Let’s just say that we know a thing or two ‘bout bad reputations. Doesn’ hurt to have someone ‘round that gets that.” She grins at the salute before shoving her hands into her pockets and starts turning towards the exit at his last. All she says to that? “Sounds like a challenge, Mr. Sentimental Knives.”

A warm, quiet laugh follows Jo from the bar, at least before the noise of the rest of Snowasis drowns out the sound, giving her the last words. Jayzin's gaze follows her as well, lingering for a while before he finally turns back to order another round.

}}
{{Categories
|Categories=General Logs
}}

Logs:Hatching Day in the Candidate Quarters

2014-07-19T19:08:15Z

Jayzin: Adding more poses from right before hatching.

{{ Log
| who = Jadzia, Jayzin, Tolman, Valenros
| where = Candidate Quarters, High Reaches Weyr
| what = Candidates ''wait''. And talk. And wait some more.
|when=Day 13, Month 4, Turn 36
|gamedate=2014.07.18
| quote = "Hard to believe that the day is really here."
| weather =
| categories = 
| mentions = Aishani, Azaylia, K'del, R'hin
| ooc = Tolman by K'zin
| icons = jadzia.jpg, jayzin serious.jpg, tolman 2.jpg, v'ros bothered.png
| log = '''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 five neat rows of five beds each allowing up to fifty people to sleep in one cavern, although one of those caverns is presently largely closed off. 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.
----

Early morning brought excitement to the barracks. With the news that Hraedhyth's eggs are near ready to hatching, and nothing but helping prepare for the hatching feast left to do, there is a near tangible edge of tension as the day draws on. Now, with sunset drawing near and the day very nearly over, some have begun to wonder if the eggs are ever going to hatch. Tolman, a lanky lad of seventeen, sits on the edge of his cot the white robe laid out next to him. "Hard to believe that the day is really here." He says it loudly enough that those nearby can certainly hear him, though he doesn't seem to be saying it to any person in particular.

If Jayzin is ''excited'' about the eggs that are near hatching, he seems to be very composed despite it. Maybe it has a bit to do with the flask that he has finally uncovered from his trunk once they are released from their various preparations. He is prepared, even if he has thrown aside the white robe while digging for it. With it, he flops back onto his own cot, heels kicked up easily as he uncorks the flask for a quick sip, watching the rest of the barracks.

A tidy cot nearby Tolman is occupied, by a prone Valenros, hands pillowed under his head. He's just staring up at the ceiling with void eyes, still as someone sleeping without a simple emotion on his pale face. At the sound of the other candidate's familiar voice, he turns his head in that direction, his brown eyes shifting their focus. "Still time.. to run." That's real encouraging.

By now Jadzia is laying on her cot with her knees bent and her arms folded behind her head. Her eyes are closed but that doesn't mean she's sleeping or otherwise not completely aware of her surroundings. Too aware for her own taste, possibly. "I wish it'd hurry up and get over with already."

Tolman's eyes sweep across the others, lingering a moment on Jayzin's flask, though not covetously. "I still don't want to." Run, that is. "Do you?" He asks of Valenros. Then to Jadzia, "Do you really? I mean, it could be a 'once in a lifetime' thing, right? Shouldn't we... I don't know, savor it, or something?" The way he looks back to Jayzin invites him to join the conversation.

"It'll be over when it's over," Jayzin offers so casually, as if he's been through this before. (He hasn't, and yet.) Maybe he is a latently blooming philosopher. His gaze flicks from Valenros to Jadzia, laughter in his eyes and caught in his throat even as he lifts his flask again. "But, waiting is never a once in a lifetime thing. Whole lives are spent waiting."

Savoring things is not Valenros's style. "No.. no.. not now. Not after.. everything." He casts a suspicious glance over Jadzia, his face becoming pinched and he pushes up with the palms of his hands, resting on his elbows. "Why is.. why are you in a hurry? Why.. get it over with? You have somewhere to go?" His attention moves freely between Jadzia and Tolman, though he does spare a curious look for the guy with the flask - maybe he looks kind of like he could use a drink too.

One of her legs starts bouncing just slightly. It's fidgeting in a way that the blonde doesn't usually succumb to. Jadzia finally sits up, glaring across at Jayzin and his flask. Mostly his flask. "Can you not?" is said to Jayzin before she's glancing over at Tolman and Valenros. "If I don't Impress, I'll go to another Weyr and try again there. I already have someone that will take me." So, not 'once in a lifetime' anything.

Tolman concedes Jayzin's point with a nod and a soft, "'Suppose that's true." To Jadzia though, he's shaking his head, "No, I mean once in a lifetime if you ''do'' Impress. It's like... your last hours just being you, not you the dragonrider, you know?" He looks to Valenros. Does he know?

"Why? Do you want some?" Jayzin offers to Jadzia easily, jiggling the flask so that the liquid sloshes audibly inside. Because clearly when people ask you to not, they just want to as well. "There'll be another clutch here, soon enough. I'll likely stay through then, at least, if I don't Impress." He doesn't seem too concerned with the prospect, though, as he rolls a shoulder in a casual shrug.

"So.. you 'want' to Impress?" Valenros blinks, looking surprised. "You.. that's what you want out of life? And you.. will keep going until you.. get it?" Or don't, but it's best left unsaid. For Tolman's benefit, he nods, and then sits up fully on his cot, legs still extended. "Yeah.. yeah, just, you in your own.. head.. for now.. never again until.. you know.. you die." A shrug follows and he swings his legs over his bed, aiming himself towards Jayzin. "I'll.. I could use.. some."

Sorry, Tolman. Jadzia isn't the right choir for that preaching. "I'd ''love'' to finally not be me." If she weren't so... whatever she is right now, she might not say that much. But she ''is'' whatever she is right now. She glares at Jayzin, jaw tense, but doesn't answer him. Instead she lays back again, bent leg back to bouncing, and answers Valenros, "Of course I want to Impress. You shouldn't be here if you don't ''want'' to Impress."

"Too bad. You could really use to loosen up before you get out there," Jayzin continues to offer to Jadzia lightly, even where she meets his previous one with silence. But then, really, it's too late because he's tossing his flask over to Valenros. "Don't drink too much if you can't hold your liquor. Wouldn't do to vomit on the Sands."

"I want to Impress." This comes a touch defensively from Tolman though no one asked him. "''I'' wouldn't want to drink before dodging hatchlings with really sharp and clumsy claws and lots of teeth." Also not asked of him, but volunteered as a very pretty start to some haunting worries for the Sands. He is watching though, the interaction between the other candidates, the questions and answers. "I'll stand for Iesaryth's clutch, too, if I don't make it." He nods to Jayzin's idea, rising and shaking out his robe as if that'll help somehow.

There's Tolman with that talk about sharp dragons again. Valenros shakes his head as he catches the flask, raising it in salute to Jayzin. "Thanks." He takes a long swig and then tosses it back, flopping back on his bed. "I don't think.. no one here wants to 'not' Impress, but I wouldn't go from Weyr to Weyr.. uh, trying to," he fills in helpfully for Jadzia, easing back into a relaxed pose.

Jadzia's gaze is drawn to the flask again. And since it's Valenros with it now, she gives ''him'' a dirty look. And then she's turning onto her side. To face ''away'' from them. "I'll stay for Iesaryth's," she says even though she's not facing them anymore and none of them probably care that much what the cranky blonde is planning on doing.

Jayzin catches his flask easily, and despite Jadzia's turning away (or perhaps contrarily because of it), he moves to tuck it away back in his trunk. He hides it in a pair of socks, just in case. "All of us except for ten, likely, will be there for Iesaryth's," he dismisses easily.

"I dunno, some people do it once and never want to face the Sands again." Tolman answers Jayzin now. "I've seen it happen. Known other apprentices." He shrugs, laying the robe back on his bed. He glances toward Jadzia's back, then Valenros with a 'what are you gonna do?' kind of rhetorical look, if looks can be rhetorical. "I'm gonna go get a nip of something so I'm not starving when I hit the Sands," which, admittedly, may not be the way to go if one is trying not to vomit on the sands. Still, he gives a little general wave and heads toward the nighthearth and its nearby supply of food and drink.

Valenros returns Jadzia's dirty look with a blank look of his own, an annoyed expression taking its place once she turns her back. "I'll.. be here, for the next, if I.. don't Impress." But he won't be jumping from Weyr to Weyr apparently. "Waiting does.. suck though." He exhales slowly and turns his head towards Jayzin, "What's in there?" The flask, undoubtedly. Tolman is easily dismissed with a wave.

Because Jadzia is in a bad mood, it might be strange that she doesn't offer back any other biting remarks to the one particular candidate that appears to be pushing her buttons. But she doesn't. She just curls up, one arm under her pillow, and stares off the other way. Probably making the candidate a few cots down a little uncomfortable since they're making a point not to make eye contact with her.

"Rum," answers Jayzin dismissively, the rest of his things tucked carefully back into his trunk without being actually tidy. "Don't worry about the waiting. You'll spend enough time waiting, if you choose to wait."

It's as the sun begins to drop below the spires, at the end of this early spring day, that the humming commences. There have been signs all day, of course - it's no surprise - but there's a gut-punch to it, too, as the birth song of the dragons begins resonating through the weyr, echoing deeply enough to be felt inside as well as out. It's time; it's unmistakably time.

Listlessly lying on his cot - even after the talk such a short time earlier - Valenros doesn't instantly react when the humming starts; his is a delayed reaction, a glance to the left and right, as he takes in everyone's emotions first. "Shit," he swears, pushing himself up and running a hand through his short hair. Next, well, naturally comes the robes. He grabs for his, hastily knocking off another garment that was draped off the end of his bed. "It's.. it's.." To anyone nearby, his eyes are wide and he looks a smidge paler than normal.

Humming is not a sound that Jadzia has heard before. The start of it makes her sit up, forgetting her tense crankiness long enough to figure out what it actually ''is''. And once that's out of the way, it's so much easier to focus on changing into her crumpled up robe than worry about whether or not she's had anything to drink today.

It's only a minute or two after the humming begins that Quinlys bursts through the doorway of the candidate barracks, wearing wherhide trousers and a thin shirt, and looking calm, collected, and... well, okay, just a ''little'' excited. The red-haired bluerider beams, glancing around as she draws herself up against the wall next to the door. "Okay, people," she calls, voice aimed to carry. "Robes on, hair up, boots laced, and let's get going."

You know who doesn't panic? Jayzin. Just as calm as he was earlier, he merely pushes himself to his feet, streeeetching and tucking away his knife into his belt. The same belt that will later get put over the robe that he gets from the trunk.

The robe goes on, Valenros is quick about it, lacing up his boots and then smoothing back his hair in one gesture. Then he simply stands, silent and uncomfortable, waiting instructions with a sickly pallor. Hopefully this one doesn't erf.

Jadzia strips down and braids her hair quickly ''before'' finishing with putting her robe all the way on. It's not like her standing around naked will distract anyone right now with that humming and excitement and that person puking over there.

"No knives." Quinlys is good at taking knives away from people; good at delivering scathing glances as she meanders down the rows, too. She holds out her hand with the obvious intention of taking that knife from Jayzin, gaze flicking from him to the others, then back again. "Start lining up, people. We need to get out there before anything happens. Go, go go." ''She'' has a tapestry to pull back, a door to unlock; a door that promptly gets swung open as she gestures for the candidates to precede her.

Jayzin is reluctant at giving over his knife, but he does. He does, with a longing glance cast back towards it as it disappears with the Weyrlingmaster. But, soon enough he is ready to go and moves to join the line of candidates onto the Sands.
}}

[[Category:RP_Logs]]
[[Category:General_Logs]]
[[Category:Clutch_36_Logs]]

Logs:Hatching Day in the Candidate Quarters

2014-07-19T19:04:33Z

Jayzin:

{{ Log
| who = Jadzia, Jayzin, Tolman, Valenros
| where = Candidate Quarters, High Reaches Weyr
| what = Candidates ''wait''. And talk. And wait some more.
|when=Day 13, Month 4, Turn 36
|gamedate=2014.07.18
| quote = "Hard to believe that the day is really here."
| weather =
| categories = 
| mentions = Aishani, Azaylia, K'del, R'hin
| ooc = Tolman by K'zin
| icons = jadzia.jpg, jayzin serious.jpg, tolman 2.jpg, v'ros bothered.png
| log = '''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 five neat rows of five beds each allowing up to fifty people to sleep in one cavern, although one of those caverns is presently largely closed off. 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.
----

Early morning brought excitement to the barracks. With the news that Hraedhyth's eggs are near ready to hatching, and nothing but helping prepare for the hatching feast left to do, there is a near tangible edge of tension as the day draws on. Now, with sunset drawing near and the day very nearly over, some have begun to wonder if the eggs are ever going to hatch. Tolman, a lanky lad of seventeen, sits on the edge of his cot the white robe laid out next to him. "Hard to believe that the day is really here." He says it loudly enough that those nearby can certainly hear him, though he doesn't seem to be saying it to any person in particular.

If Jayzin is ''excited'' about the eggs that are near hatching, he seems to be very composed despite it. Maybe it has a bit to do with the flask that he has finally uncovered from his trunk once they are released from their various preparations. He is prepared, even if he has thrown aside the white robe while digging for it. With it, he flops back onto his own cot, heels kicked up easily as he uncorks the flask for a quick sip, watching the rest of the barracks.

A tidy cot nearby Tolman is occupied, by a prone Valenros, hands pillowed under his head. He's just staring up at the ceiling with void eyes, still as someone sleeping without a simple emotion on his pale face. At the sound of the other candidate's familiar voice, he turns his head in that direction, his brown eyes shifting their focus. "Still time.. to run." That's real encouraging.

By now Jadzia is laying on her cot with her knees bent and her arms folded behind her head. Her eyes are closed but that doesn't mean she's sleeping or otherwise not completely aware of her surroundings. Too aware for her own taste, possibly. "I wish it'd hurry up and get over with already."

Tolman's eyes sweep across the others, lingering a moment on Jayzin's flask, though not covetously. "I still don't want to." Run, that is. "Do you?" He asks of Valenros. Then to Jadzia, "Do you really? I mean, it could be a 'once in a lifetime' thing, right? Shouldn't we... I don't know, savor it, or something?" The way he looks back to Jayzin invites him to join the conversation.

"It'll be over when it's over," Jayzin offers so casually, as if he's been through this before. (He hasn't, and yet.) Maybe he is a latently blooming philosopher. His gaze flicks from Valenros to Jadzia, laughter in his eyes and caught in his throat even as he lifts his flask again. "But, waiting is never a once in a lifetime thing. Whole lives are spent waiting."

Savoring things is not Valenros's style. "No.. no.. not now. Not after.. everything." He casts a suspicious glance over Jadzia, his face becoming pinched and he pushes up with the palms of his hands, resting on his elbows. "Why is.. why are you in a hurry? Why.. get it over with? You have somewhere to go?" His attention moves freely between Jadzia and Tolman, though he does spare a curious look for the guy with the flask - maybe he looks kind of like he could use a drink too.

One of her legs starts bouncing just slightly. It's fidgeting in a way that the blonde doesn't usually succumb to. Jadzia finally sits up, glaring across at Jayzin and his flask. Mostly his flask. "Can you not?" is said to Jayzin before she's glancing over at Tolman and Valenros. "If I don't Impress, I'll go to another Weyr and try again there. I already have someone that will take me." So, not 'once in a lifetime' anything.

Tolman concedes Jayzin's point with a nod and a soft, "'Suppose that's true." To Jadzia though, he's shaking his head, "No, I mean once in a lifetime if you ''do'' Impress. It's like... your last hours just being you, not you the dragonrider, you know?" He looks to Valenros. Does he know?

"Why? Do you want some?" Jayzin offers to Jadzia easily, jiggling the flask so that the liquid sloshes audibly inside. Because clearly when people ask you to not, they just want to as well. "There'll be another clutch here, soon enough. I'll likely stay through then, at least, if I don't Impress." He doesn't seem too concerned with the prospect, though, as he rolls a shoulder in a casual shrug.

"So.. you 'want' to Impress?" Valenros blinks, looking surprised. "You.. that's what you want out of life? And you.. will keep going until you.. get it?" Or don't, but it's best left unsaid. For Tolman's benefit, he nods, and then sits up fully on his cot, legs still extended. "Yeah.. yeah, just, you in your own.. head.. for now.. never again until.. you know.. you die." A shrug follows and he swings his legs over his bed, aiming himself towards Jayzin. "I'll.. I could use.. some."

Sorry, Tolman. Jadzia isn't the right choir for that preaching. "I'd ''love'' to finally not be me." If she weren't so... whatever she is right now, she might not say that much. But she ''is'' whatever she is right now. She glares at Jayzin, jaw tense, but doesn't answer him. Instead she lays back again, bent leg back to bouncing, and answers Valenros, "Of course I want to Impress. You shouldn't be here if you don't ''want'' to Impress."

"Too bad. You could really use to loosen up before you get out there," Jayzin continues to offer to Jadzia lightly, even where she meets his previous one with silence. But then, really, it's too late because he's tossing his flask over to Valenros. "Don't drink too much if you can't hold your liquor. Wouldn't do to vomit on the Sands."

"I want to Impress." This comes a touch defensively from Tolman though no one asked him. "''I'' wouldn't want to drink before dodging hatchlings with really sharp and clumsy claws and lots of teeth." Also not asked of him, but volunteered as a very pretty start to some haunting worries for the Sands. He is watching though, the interaction between the other candidates, the questions and answers. "I'll stand for Iesaryth's clutch, too, if I don't make it." He nods to Jayzin's idea, rising and shaking out his robe as if that'll help somehow.

There's Tolman with that talk about sharp dragons again. Valenros shakes his head as he catches the flask, raising it in salute to Jayzin. "Thanks." He takes a long swig and then tosses it back, flopping back on his bed. "I don't think.. no one here wants to 'not' Impress, but I wouldn't go from Weyr to Weyr.. uh, trying to," he fills in helpfully for Jadzia, easing back into a relaxed pose.

Jadzia's gaze is drawn to the flask again. And since it's Valenros with it now, she gives ''him'' a dirty look. And then she's turning onto her side. To face ''away'' from them. "I'll stay for Iesaryth's," she says even though she's not facing them anymore and none of them probably care that much what the cranky blonde is planning on doing.

Jayzin catches his flask easily, and despite Jadzia's turning away (or perhaps contrarily because of it), he moves to tuck it away back in his trunk. He hides it in a pair of socks, just in case. "All of us except for ten, likely, will be there for Iesaryth's," he dismisses easily.

"I dunno, some people do it once and never want to face the Sands again." Tolman answers Jayzin now. "I've seen it happen. Known other apprentices." He shrugs, laying the robe back on his bed. He glances toward Jadzia's back, then Valenros with a 'what are you gonna do?' kind of rhetorical look, if looks can be rhetorical. "I'm gonna go get a nip of something so I'm not starving when I hit the Sands," which, admittedly, may not be the way to go if one is trying not to vomit on the sands. Still, he gives a little general wave and heads toward the nighthearth and its nearby supply of food and drink.

Valenros returns Jadzia's dirty look with a blank look of his own, an annoyed expression taking its place once she turns her back. "I'll.. be here, for the next, if I.. don't Impress." But he won't be jumping from Weyr to Weyr apparently. "Waiting does.. suck though." He exhales slowly and turns his head towards Jayzin, "What's in there?" The flask, undoubtedly. Tolman is easily dismissed with a wave.

Because Jadzia is in a bad mood, it might be strange that she doesn't offer back any other biting remarks to the one particular candidate that appears to be pushing her buttons. But she doesn't. She just curls up, one arm under her pillow, and stares off the other way. Probably making the candidate a few cots down a little uncomfortable since they're making a point not to make eye contact with her.

"Rum," answers Jayzin dismissively, the rest of his things tucked carefully back into his trunk without being actually tidy. "Don't worry about the waiting. You'll spend enough time waiting, if you choose to wait."
}}

[[Category:RP_Logs]]
[[Category:General_Logs]]
[[Category:Clutch_36_Logs]]

Logs:Uniquely Talented

2014-07-11T05:23:01Z

Jayzin: wrong icon

{{Log
|who=Evanthe, Jayzin,
|what=Two candidates and go rule-breaking.
|where=Candidate Quarters
|when=day 13, month 3, turn 35 of Interval 10
|gamedate=2014.07.08
|quote=But pretty sure that's a euphemism...
|weather=
|mentions=
|ooc=
|icons-new=Icon evanthe amused.jpg, Icon jayzin shots.gif,
|icons=
|log=Chores, chores, chores - they fill the day, and Evanthe rarely comes through it entirely unscathed, so a bath was called for before returning home. Her clothes are clinging damply to her skin, and she's distractedly towelling dry her hair as she enters the quarters, paying only a modicum of attention as she weaves her way through the bunks and occupants thereof towards her own humble, decidedly rumpled, bed.

Jayzin is a recent addition to the Candidates for Hraedryth's clutch, and though he hasn't quite kept to himself, he certainly has been just as busy as the rest of the Candidates between chores and work in the kitchen. At the moment, he sits with legs stretched out on his own well-made cot, knife in hand as he whittles idly at a piece of wood that seem to look like... a slightly smaller piece of wood, at the moment. "Trunk," he warns, in case Evanthe is not paying attention to notice the shifted, half-opened piece of furniture some younger Candidate has left in her path.

Evanthe is not paying attention - her luck would simply have it that way - and it's only a moment after Jayzin helpfully utters that warning that she swings a shin into the corner of the trunk full force. It's almost graceful, the resultant sprawl, ricochet, and eventual falling and catching herself, inevitably, on the edge of Jayzin's own cot. Graceful save for the colorful, creative expletives that explode from her mouth, seemingly effortlessly, and completely at odds with her youthful and generally innocent appearance. Jayzin, meet Evanthe.

"I tried to warn you," Jayzin offers, though not without the hint of a smile tugging at his lips which soon turns to concern as he sits up. The block of wood is abandoned in his lap (not the knife). "Are you alright?" He doesn't seem to mind expletives, nor do they take him by surprise even when they come out of the mouth of someone so young or female. That, at least, he is used to.

Evanthe just grunts in response to the man's ill-timed ''I-told-you-so'', shooting him a vaguely dirty look as she picks herself up off the floor - completely undeserved though it may be. She does, however, help herself to the edge of his bed to perch on to assess the damage, plunking herself down damply and hauling up a leg to peer at her shin. Pants ripped, skin too, some blood but the sort of injury that smarts and is annoying. She just rubs a sleeve over it then clamps a hand down to keep it from oozing. "Fuck." She shoots Jayzin a sidelong, narrow-eyed look. "You're new." Or, she just hasn't noticed him, but either way.

Jayzin doesn't seem to mind blame or dirty looks anymore than a dirty mouth, that crooked smirk reappearing subtly at the corners of his lips as Evanthe seems to be ok. He replies easily, "I don't normally object to a 'fuck' followed by an observation of my newness, but I think we should find some place more private, in that case." He adds, though, "Jayzin. Just got in a few days ago."
Evanthe gives the introduction due consideration, giving her fellow candidate a thorough looking at. A very thorough looking at. Whether out of suspicion or the fact that she is only just now really /noticing/ his looks, who's to say? It can be said though that she shifts, just a little uncomfortably, and there's some new pinkishness in her face. Followed by another muttered, "/Fuck/." Her left hand, the one not holding her shin together, is wiped hastily on her pants and then she holds it out awkwardly to shake. "Evanthe. I'm a candidate." Pause. "Obviously. Uh... welcome, I guess? Who searched you?"

The knife in his hand is tucked away before Jayzin reaches out to take Evanthe's, even his fingertips warm in a way that suggests that the young man probably runs hot. His grip is slightly rough and lingers as he answers dismissively, "I wasn't searched, really. I agreed to Stand." Isn't that what search is? Oh well. He moves to stand, his fingers still capturing hers to leverage her up. "Here, I know where to find some ice and a drink, if you need it."

Oh, and just like that, Evanthe's wide-eyed gaze is fixed on his hand and if anything the red in her fair skin is burning a little hotter - and her expression, if anything, is growing darker in reaction to it. Belligerence. Though... uh... it isn't as though she's pulling her hand away. She swallows, then squints back at his face. "What?" Right, she asked a question. "Oh! Yeah, I wasn't searched either," she says, allowing herself to be hauled to her feet, which she performs with just about as much grace as before, and a wrinkle of her nose as she steps on the battered leg. "A drink? Shit, yes. Bloody bartender won't serve me."

"Don't worry. We won't bother with bartenders," Jayzin promises with wry humor, those fingers in hers twining to clasp around hers before he moves back in the direction Evanthe came. It seems he expects her to follow, leading with that connection of their fingers. And once they are out of the barracks, he makes his way through tunnels confidently towards the kitchens. Though they aren't empty, he doesn't stop there, moving still in the direction of the storerooms without saying another word, yet.

"We..." Evanthe repeats, uncertainly. "Won't." She allows herself to be led, far more pliantly than she normally is, though there is still a certain suspicious narrowing at the back of the man's head. It doesn't stop her following though, or her hand from tightening on his as she dodges around some other obstacle left in the path on the way out of the candidate quarters - just so she doesn't go sprawling again, mind. Through the tunnels, towards the storerooms, and finally she asks. "Where...?"

Jayzin glances back even as he releases her hand when they come to the storerooms, a quick, reassuring smile on his lips. "We're going right to the source," he explains. Apparently, he needs that hand that he recovered, since he pulls picks from his pocket to start on the lock of a certain door. It is late enough, at least, that there is no one in the tunnels here to come upon them. "Unless you're afraid of getting in trouble?"

Evanthe stares at the picks expressionlessly. There's a little rock on her feet, a few moments of uncertainty... and then she moves to where she can watch, curiosity written plainly across her features. "Not afraid of much." Bold words. "So... you're a /scoundrel/." This is added with an appraising look - already she's learning so much about this new, improbable friend.

"''Scoundrel''?" Jayzin repeats, mock-offense on his tone as he lifts his rich, brown eyes to slide upwards over Evanthe as she moves closer. "I prefer to say uniquely talented." It takes a few moments longer when he drops his attention back, but eventually there is a satisfying click and he pushes the door open. He gallantly waves her in first. "What are you afraid of, then?"

Evanthe nods, eyebrows raised with implied sincerity in response to his mock-offense, standing by the word she chose. "A uniquely talented scoundrel." Let's be accurate, here. She leans in to watch, lips pursed thoughtfully as the picks do whatever they do to make that click happen, and she moves into the room at his gesture - so trusting. At his question, she just gives a perfectly ladylike snort. "We haven't even /had/ a drink yet and you're already breaking out the big questions. What are /you/ afraid of?"

It is almost easy, unsecretive and light in the way Jayzin offers in answer, "Impressing. Returning home. Not returning home." He steps inside after her, pulling the door firmly shut behind him to cut the room into almost complete darkness. And yet, he moves with confidence towards the dim glowbasket left inside to uncover its light. He fetches a full flagon of wine and offers it to Evanthe before he questions again, "You?"

More information to be filed away, and it's with particular interest that Evanthe observes how /easily/ Jayzin finds his way around. She doesn't comment, not right away, but there's that lingering contemplation in her face as she reaches out automatically to accept the wine. "Fine," she says, shortly. It's only fair. "Nothing changing. Never belonging." She pauses to wiggle on the cork, freeing that precious liquid within, which she'll take a swig of - and immediately make a face afterwards, doing little to make her seem more worldly and wise. Then she finishes with the big one, "Failure."

"Failure is easy. You just fail. Dealing with the rest..." Jayzin shrugs his shoulder upwards casually, that smile lingering on his lips. And at her expression, a laugh catches in his throat before he reaches for the wine. "At least if you Impress, you do not have to worry about change."

"Yeah, it's when it happens over and over... and over..." Evanthe mutters darkly as she extends the wine out for her companion. "That's when it starts to weigh." She, perhaps fortunately misses that little laugh at her expression, just shrugging at his last comment. "I guess that was sort of the idea. I asked to Stand."

The wine is accepted back and lifted to his lips for an easy chug than Evanthe's before Jayzin's gaze slides over Evanthe again. "The rest is, at least, out of your control," he offers as if it is reassuring, even as he offers the wine back again.

"Thank fucking Faranth," Evanthe says readily. Those are words that she can drink to, and does, and though she still makes a face it's not nearly as scrunched as the first time. She shakes her head, and gives him that contemplative look as she offers the wine back. "So, what's your story? Are you from here?"

"I'm Vijay," Jayzin answers simply to the question, dismissive almost in the way he approaches that single explanation. He takes the wine back, but this time he merely corks it rather than drinking from it. "Does you leg still hurt? I did promise ice, too."

Evanthe waits expectantly, as though sure there is going to be more to follow. Apparently... not. She runs her fingers back through her hair, now drying in clumps and tangles, a gesture of discontent. "Okay, but... I mean, you seem like you know your way around." She gestures around herself, ending with a point at the wine. "Guess you learn quick?" She squints down at her leg, only dimly illuminated in the romantic glow of glowlights, and shrugs. Only minor gore. "Hurts, but I'll live. I'd take the ice, though. Third time I've ripped these damn pants."

The curve of his lips only quirks more crooked as Jayzin replies, "I've always had to learn my way around fast. And, it helps being assigned to the kitchens." The wine is stashed back where he found it, even if it is minus some of its contents and has been contaminated with lips. He then moves back to the door, listening quietly for a moment before he opens it. "They keep ice on hand, there. We can grab some on our way back."

"You seem like a useful scoundrel to know," Evanthe comments wryly, falling in line behind the man as he makes for the door. She'll wait for his signal that the way is clear, and then out into the hall with that faint, unconscious smile of someone who has gotten away with being /bad/ - an experience she has had all too rarely, at least intentionally. "Right. Excellent. Lead the way, sir."

Jayzin locks the door behind him, not one to overlook details that could give him away in the long run. Or at least, those that he can help. "''Talented''," he replies, stressing the word, before his hand falls to the small of Evanthe's back to lead her back the way they came to the kitchens.

Evanthe stiffens a little at the touch, but goodness knows she doesn't object. She again allows herself to be guided, with a breath of a laugh for the correction. "Right. A useful /talent/ to know," she rephrases, shooting him a look. "But pretty sure that's a euphemism for what I said."

"I am never a scoundrel." But this is murmured in Evanthe's ear as Jayzin leans in to quietly tell her, easily eating up that personal space despite the way she has already stiffened at just his hand. At least the kitchen is still staffed when they intrude on it's warmth, and he moves away to get some ice from one of the staff for her.

Breath on her ear and Evanthe's face instantly colors. "Fucking liar," is offered in a mutter, amused even as she attempts to... you know... be cool. It isn't in her nature, though, and she nearly manages to dump over a pot of tubers that were freshly peeled, earning a dirty look from one of the late night workers. Leaning against things, apparently not a good plan, and she ends up just waiting, hands clasped in front of her, face still pink. So cool. "Thanks, by the way."

"Sorry, love," Jayzin apologizes easily to the kitchen worker, who is likely a known quality, and at least eases some of that displeasure with those two simple words as he returns with ice. He dismisses Evanthe's thanks just as easily as he says, "I should have tried harder to warn you." The ice is offered to the young woman, wrapped as it is in cloth.

"True," Evanthe agrees promptly, brow arched at him... but humor in the words. She accepts the ice with a nod, cupping the bundle between her hands. "In your defense, this is probably the most pleasant outcome I've had from getting banged up, so. Guess you're off the hook." The perfect soul of generosity, she. On more sure grounds now, she'll lead the way out with a murmur of thanks for the helpful kitchen workers, providing ice and tolerating her presence, and - with a glance back to see if he's with her - lead the way back to ''home.''

A laugh escapes warmly at Evanthe's agreement, but Jayzin only accepts it and the words that follow with an easy smile, still. And despite leading her there, he seems to accept allowing her to lead the way back, following just as easily as he led.

Back in the candidate quarters, Evanthe starts back through the bunks - taking /great/ pains to avoid that trunk that still sticks out into the aisle - and then... stops. By Jayzin's bed. She's uncertain now, evident in her posture, as to what to do next as the hour grows late and many of their compatriots are already tucked in for the night. Her own rumpled cot is a few rows away, and she eyes it for a moment before turning about face. Icing can wait a moment. She's going to linger, if only briefly. "It was good to meet you. I'm glad you were... Not Searched."

"Thank you?" Jayzin questions with wry humor, brows lifting slightly at the other candidate's response. And, perhaps, at her stopping at his bed. He reaches over to grab the abandoned block of wood from the neatly made bed before dropping himself neatly onto it. As she hesitates, he adds, "You're welcome to crawl in with me. If that's what you're thinking about."

Evanthe's rendered speechless. Literally, entirely speechless, lips parted as she stares at him. If she's /considering/ it, she makes no motion to actually do it, and with heat in her cheeks once more just quietly mutters the epithet "Scoundrel," with dry amusement. "Good night." She goes, then, to crawl into her very own bed and hold that ice to her shin, and surely not doodle his name in her diary surrounded by hearts or anything perfectly ridiculous like that.
}}
{{Categories}}

[[Category:Clutch_36_Logs]]

Logs:Uniquely Talented

2014-07-11T05:22:36Z

Jayzin:

{{Log
|who=Evanthe, Jayzin,
|what=Two candidates and go rule-breaking.
|where=Candidate Quarters
|when=day 13, month 3, turn 35 of Interval 10
|gamedate=2014.07.08
|quote=But pretty sure that's a euphemism...
|weather=
|mentions=
|ooc=
|icons-new=Icon evanthe amused.jpg, Icon jayzin showtime.gif,
|icons=
|log=Chores, chores, chores - they fill the day, and Evanthe rarely comes through it entirely unscathed, so a bath was called for before returning home. Her clothes are clinging damply to her skin, and she's distractedly towelling dry her hair as she enters the quarters, paying only a modicum of attention as she weaves her way through the bunks and occupants thereof towards her own humble, decidedly rumpled, bed.

Jayzin is a recent addition to the Candidates for Hraedryth's clutch, and though he hasn't quite kept to himself, he certainly has been just as busy as the rest of the Candidates between chores and work in the kitchen. At the moment, he sits with legs stretched out on his own well-made cot, knife in hand as he whittles idly at a piece of wood that seem to look like... a slightly smaller piece of wood, at the moment. "Trunk," he warns, in case Evanthe is not paying attention to notice the shifted, half-opened piece of furniture some younger Candidate has left in her path.

Evanthe is not paying attention - her luck would simply have it that way - and it's only a moment after Jayzin helpfully utters that warning that she swings a shin into the corner of the trunk full force. It's almost graceful, the resultant sprawl, ricochet, and eventual falling and catching herself, inevitably, on the edge of Jayzin's own cot. Graceful save for the colorful, creative expletives that explode from her mouth, seemingly effortlessly, and completely at odds with her youthful and generally innocent appearance. Jayzin, meet Evanthe.

"I tried to warn you," Jayzin offers, though not without the hint of a smile tugging at his lips which soon turns to concern as he sits up. The block of wood is abandoned in his lap (not the knife). "Are you alright?" He doesn't seem to mind expletives, nor do they take him by surprise even when they come out of the mouth of someone so young or female. That, at least, he is used to.

Evanthe just grunts in response to the man's ill-timed ''I-told-you-so'', shooting him a vaguely dirty look as she picks herself up off the floor - completely undeserved though it may be. She does, however, help herself to the edge of his bed to perch on to assess the damage, plunking herself down damply and hauling up a leg to peer at her shin. Pants ripped, skin too, some blood but the sort of injury that smarts and is annoying. She just rubs a sleeve over it then clamps a hand down to keep it from oozing. "Fuck." She shoots Jayzin a sidelong, narrow-eyed look. "You're new." Or, she just hasn't noticed him, but either way.

Jayzin doesn't seem to mind blame or dirty looks anymore than a dirty mouth, that crooked smirk reappearing subtly at the corners of his lips as Evanthe seems to be ok. He replies easily, "I don't normally object to a 'fuck' followed by an observation of my newness, but I think we should find some place more private, in that case." He adds, though, "Jayzin. Just got in a few days ago."
Evanthe gives the introduction due consideration, giving her fellow candidate a thorough looking at. A very thorough looking at. Whether out of suspicion or the fact that she is only just now really /noticing/ his looks, who's to say? It can be said though that she shifts, just a little uncomfortably, and there's some new pinkishness in her face. Followed by another muttered, "/Fuck/." Her left hand, the one not holding her shin together, is wiped hastily on her pants and then she holds it out awkwardly to shake. "Evanthe. I'm a candidate." Pause. "Obviously. Uh... welcome, I guess? Who searched you?"

The knife in his hand is tucked away before Jayzin reaches out to take Evanthe's, even his fingertips warm in a way that suggests that the young man probably runs hot. His grip is slightly rough and lingers as he answers dismissively, "I wasn't searched, really. I agreed to Stand." Isn't that what search is? Oh well. He moves to stand, his fingers still capturing hers to leverage her up. "Here, I know where to find some ice and a drink, if you need it."

Oh, and just like that, Evanthe's wide-eyed gaze is fixed on his hand and if anything the red in her fair skin is burning a little hotter - and her expression, if anything, is growing darker in reaction to it. Belligerence. Though... uh... it isn't as though she's pulling her hand away. She swallows, then squints back at his face. "What?" Right, she asked a question. "Oh! Yeah, I wasn't searched either," she says, allowing herself to be hauled to her feet, which she performs with just about as much grace as before, and a wrinkle of her nose as she steps on the battered leg. "A drink? Shit, yes. Bloody bartender won't serve me."

"Don't worry. We won't bother with bartenders," Jayzin promises with wry humor, those fingers in hers twining to clasp around hers before he moves back in the direction Evanthe came. It seems he expects her to follow, leading with that connection of their fingers. And once they are out of the barracks, he makes his way through tunnels confidently towards the kitchens. Though they aren't empty, he doesn't stop there, moving still in the direction of the storerooms without saying another word, yet.

"We..." Evanthe repeats, uncertainly. "Won't." She allows herself to be led, far more pliantly than she normally is, though there is still a certain suspicious narrowing at the back of the man's head. It doesn't stop her following though, or her hand from tightening on his as she dodges around some other obstacle left in the path on the way out of the candidate quarters - just so she doesn't go sprawling again, mind. Through the tunnels, towards the storerooms, and finally she asks. "Where...?"

Jayzin glances back even as he releases her hand when they come to the storerooms, a quick, reassuring smile on his lips. "We're going right to the source," he explains. Apparently, he needs that hand that he recovered, since he pulls picks from his pocket to start on the lock of a certain door. It is late enough, at least, that there is no one in the tunnels here to come upon them. "Unless you're afraid of getting in trouble?"

Evanthe stares at the picks expressionlessly. There's a little rock on her feet, a few moments of uncertainty... and then she moves to where she can watch, curiosity written plainly across her features. "Not afraid of much." Bold words. "So... you're a /scoundrel/." This is added with an appraising look - already she's learning so much about this new, improbable friend.

"''Scoundrel''?" Jayzin repeats, mock-offense on his tone as he lifts his rich, brown eyes to slide upwards over Evanthe as she moves closer. "I prefer to say uniquely talented." It takes a few moments longer when he drops his attention back, but eventually there is a satisfying click and he pushes the door open. He gallantly waves her in first. "What are you afraid of, then?"

Evanthe nods, eyebrows raised with implied sincerity in response to his mock-offense, standing by the word she chose. "A uniquely talented scoundrel." Let's be accurate, here. She leans in to watch, lips pursed thoughtfully as the picks do whatever they do to make that click happen, and she moves into the room at his gesture - so trusting. At his question, she just gives a perfectly ladylike snort. "We haven't even /had/ a drink yet and you're already breaking out the big questions. What are /you/ afraid of?"

It is almost easy, unsecretive and light in the way Jayzin offers in answer, "Impressing. Returning home. Not returning home." He steps inside after her, pulling the door firmly shut behind him to cut the room into almost complete darkness. And yet, he moves with confidence towards the dim glowbasket left inside to uncover its light. He fetches a full flagon of wine and offers it to Evanthe before he questions again, "You?"

More information to be filed away, and it's with particular interest that Evanthe observes how /easily/ Jayzin finds his way around. She doesn't comment, not right away, but there's that lingering contemplation in her face as she reaches out automatically to accept the wine. "Fine," she says, shortly. It's only fair. "Nothing changing. Never belonging." She pauses to wiggle on the cork, freeing that precious liquid within, which she'll take a swig of - and immediately make a face afterwards, doing little to make her seem more worldly and wise. Then she finishes with the big one, "Failure."

"Failure is easy. You just fail. Dealing with the rest..." Jayzin shrugs his shoulder upwards casually, that smile lingering on his lips. And at her expression, a laugh catches in his throat before he reaches for the wine. "At least if you Impress, you do not have to worry about change."

"Yeah, it's when it happens over and over... and over..." Evanthe mutters darkly as she extends the wine out for her companion. "That's when it starts to weigh." She, perhaps fortunately misses that little laugh at her expression, just shrugging at his last comment. "I guess that was sort of the idea. I asked to Stand."

The wine is accepted back and lifted to his lips for an easy chug than Evanthe's before Jayzin's gaze slides over Evanthe again. "The rest is, at least, out of your control," he offers as if it is reassuring, even as he offers the wine back again.

"Thank fucking Faranth," Evanthe says readily. Those are words that she can drink to, and does, and though she still makes a face it's not nearly as scrunched as the first time. She shakes her head, and gives him that contemplative look as she offers the wine back. "So, what's your story? Are you from here?"

"I'm Vijay," Jayzin answers simply to the question, dismissive almost in the way he approaches that single explanation. He takes the wine back, but this time he merely corks it rather than drinking from it. "Does you leg still hurt? I did promise ice, too."

Evanthe waits expectantly, as though sure there is going to be more to follow. Apparently... not. She runs her fingers back through her hair, now drying in clumps and tangles, a gesture of discontent. "Okay, but... I mean, you seem like you know your way around." She gestures around herself, ending with a point at the wine. "Guess you learn quick?" She squints down at her leg, only dimly illuminated in the romantic glow of glowlights, and shrugs. Only minor gore. "Hurts, but I'll live. I'd take the ice, though. Third time I've ripped these damn pants."

The curve of his lips only quirks more crooked as Jayzin replies, "I've always had to learn my way around fast. And, it helps being assigned to the kitchens." The wine is stashed back where he found it, even if it is minus some of its contents and has been contaminated with lips. He then moves back to the door, listening quietly for a moment before he opens it. "They keep ice on hand, there. We can grab some on our way back."

"You seem like a useful scoundrel to know," Evanthe comments wryly, falling in line behind the man as he makes for the door. She'll wait for his signal that the way is clear, and then out into the hall with that faint, unconscious smile of someone who has gotten away with being /bad/ - an experience she has had all too rarely, at least intentionally. "Right. Excellent. Lead the way, sir."

Jayzin locks the door behind him, not one to overlook details that could give him away in the long run. Or at least, those that he can help. "''Talented''," he replies, stressing the word, before his hand falls to the small of Evanthe's back to lead her back the way they came to the kitchens.

Evanthe stiffens a little at the touch, but goodness knows she doesn't object. She again allows herself to be guided, with a breath of a laugh for the correction. "Right. A useful /talent/ to know," she rephrases, shooting him a look. "But pretty sure that's a euphemism for what I said."

"I am never a scoundrel." But this is murmured in Evanthe's ear as Jayzin leans in to quietly tell her, easily eating up that personal space despite the way she has already stiffened at just his hand. At least the kitchen is still staffed when they intrude on it's warmth, and he moves away to get some ice from one of the staff for her.

Breath on her ear and Evanthe's face instantly colors. "Fucking liar," is offered in a mutter, amused even as she attempts to... you know... be cool. It isn't in her nature, though, and she nearly manages to dump over a pot of tubers that were freshly peeled, earning a dirty look from one of the late night workers. Leaning against things, apparently not a good plan, and she ends up just waiting, hands clasped in front of her, face still pink. So cool. "Thanks, by the way."

"Sorry, love," Jayzin apologizes easily to the kitchen worker, who is likely a known quality, and at least eases some of that displeasure with those two simple words as he returns with ice. He dismisses Evanthe's thanks just as easily as he says, "I should have tried harder to warn you." The ice is offered to the young woman, wrapped as it is in cloth.

"True," Evanthe agrees promptly, brow arched at him... but humor in the words. She accepts the ice with a nod, cupping the bundle between her hands. "In your defense, this is probably the most pleasant outcome I've had from getting banged up, so. Guess you're off the hook." The perfect soul of generosity, she. On more sure grounds now, she'll lead the way out with a murmur of thanks for the helpful kitchen workers, providing ice and tolerating her presence, and - with a glance back to see if he's with her - lead the way back to ''home.''

A laugh escapes warmly at Evanthe's agreement, but Jayzin only accepts it and the words that follow with an easy smile, still. And despite leading her there, he seems to accept allowing her to lead the way back, following just as easily as he led.

Back in the candidate quarters, Evanthe starts back through the bunks - taking /great/ pains to avoid that trunk that still sticks out into the aisle - and then... stops. By Jayzin's bed. She's uncertain now, evident in her posture, as to what to do next as the hour grows late and many of their compatriots are already tucked in for the night. Her own rumpled cot is a few rows away, and she eyes it for a moment before turning about face. Icing can wait a moment. She's going to linger, if only briefly. "It was good to meet you. I'm glad you were... Not Searched."

"Thank you?" Jayzin questions with wry humor, brows lifting slightly at the other candidate's response. And, perhaps, at her stopping at his bed. He reaches over to grab the abandoned block of wood from the neatly made bed before dropping himself neatly onto it. As she hesitates, he adds, "You're welcome to crawl in with me. If that's what you're thinking about."

Evanthe's rendered speechless. Literally, entirely speechless, lips parted as she stares at him. If she's /considering/ it, she makes no motion to actually do it, and with heat in her cheeks once more just quietly mutters the epithet "Scoundrel," with dry amusement. "Good night." She goes, then, to crawl into her very own bed and hold that ice to her shin, and surely not doodle his name in her diary surrounded by hearts or anything perfectly ridiculous like that.
}}
{{Categories}}

[[Category:Clutch_36_Logs]]

File:Icon jayzin serious.jpg

2014-07-05T19:29:28Z

Jayzin:

File:Icon jayzin smile.jpg

2014-07-05T19:29:28Z

Jayzin:

File:Icon jayzin business.jpg

2014-07-05T19:29:27Z

Jayzin:

File:Icon jayzin happy.jpg

2014-07-05T19:29:27Z

Jayzin:

File:Icon jayzin heybb.jpg

2014-07-05T19:29:27Z

Jayzin:

File:Icon jayzin light up.jpg

2014-07-05T19:29:27Z

Jayzin:

File:Icon jayzin scarf.jpg

2014-07-05T19:29:27Z

Jayzin:

File:Icon jayzin undress.gif

2014-07-05T19:01:18Z

Jayzin: uhm. i may need it one day.

uhm. i may need it one day.

File:Icon jayzin showtime.gif

2014-07-05T19:01:18Z

Jayzin:

File:Icon jayzin whistle.gif

2014-07-05T18:51:35Z

Jayzin:

File:Icon jayzin appreciation.gif

2014-07-05T18:51:34Z

Jayzin:

File:Icon jayzin laughing.gif

2014-07-05T18:51:34Z

Jayzin:

File:Icon jayzin shots.gif

2014-07-05T18:51:34Z

Jayzin:

Jayzin

2014-07-05T15:25:41Z

Jayzin:

{{HrwProfile
|picture=Jayzin.jpg
|position=Candidate
|craft=
|birthplace=Caravan
|mother=Jai
|father=Sayzen
|siblings=Jyani (-5)
|children=
|friends=
|playedby=Charles Michael Davis
|livejournal=}}

== Description ==
This young man is made of symmetrical features, from the hooded eyes to the dark, gentle curve of his brows to the straight line of his nose. His jaw is round, though he does have the cut of cheekbones that give him definition. A rich caramel brown colors his skin with bright, coal eyes set in contrast to that, though his full lips hold a touch of pink. He has shaved his head, only leaving a dusting of dark hair to accent his scalp.

== WYSK ==
* Jayzin seems to be one of ''those''. Those Vijays.

* He can often be found in the kitchen for his assigned duties.

== History ==
Jayzin is Vijay. Surely, that should be enough to summarize a single person in one word? At least, that is certainly how he has felt his entire life. It was not an easy life for Jayzin, even the earliest memories of life before his father was sent to the mines were fraught with tension. Not that he had many Turns before then, only five when the men of his clan were rounded up and sent off, abandoning women and children, and more importantly in Jay's small eyes, his pregnant mother. His sister Jyani was born to a different world than he was, one run by women as the Vijay clan picked up the pieces, a world where going without wasn't uncommon in that first winter. And even later, things never quite returned to the way it was before.

Taught by women from since he was young, Jay picked up the usual Vijay skills as easily as breathing, but he picked up other skills as well. More homely skills. That is to say, he really likes to cook and bake.

It wasn't until his father returned that the lifestyle he was subjected to for so long started to rub the young teenager the wrong way. Even the comfort in cooking was now something that the men ribbed on him on, marked by bullying words from even his own father for what they considered a too domestic task for their sons.

He objected to Jyani leaving the caravan, jealous of her escape, but feeling forced to continue his life there with the Vijays. There is a certain loyalty bred into all Vijays, it seems, and with such hardship, he couldn't bring himself to go away. That is, until his cousin put in a call for Vijay's to Stand. Still able to help the family in this way, he was quick to take the opportunity to distance himself from the type of life they lead.

== Relationships ==
[[Aishani]], cousin. <br>
[[Jyani]], sister.

== RP Logs ==

{{RP Logs | name = {{BASEPAGENAME}} | columns = 3 }}

{{#ifexist: {{BASEPAGENAME}}/Mentions | {{:{{BASEPAGENAME}}/Mentions}} | }}

{{#ifexist: {{BASEPAGENAME}}/Comments | {{:{{BASEPAGENAME}}/Comments}} | }}

{{Icons}}

{{HRW}}

[[Category:Characters]]
[[Category:Greater_Pern]]
[[Category:High_Reaches_Area]]
[[Category:High_Reaches_Weyr]]
[[Category:Residents]]
[[Category:Vijays]]

Jayzin

2014-07-05T14:22:51Z

Jayzin: formatting

{{HrwProfile
|picture=Jayzin.jpg
|position=Candidate
|craft=
|birthplace=Caravan
|mother=Jai
|father=Sandeep
|siblings=Jyani (-5)
|children=
|friends=
|playedby=Charles Michael Davis
|livejournal=}}

== Description ==
This young man is made of symmetrical features, from the hooded eyes to the dark, gentle curve of his brows to the straight line of his nose. His jaw is round, though he does have the cut of cheekbones that give him definition. A rich caramel brown colors his skin with bright, coal eyes set in contrast to that, though his full lips hold a touch of pink. He has shaved his head, only leaving a dusting of dark hair to accent his scalp.

== WYSK ==
* Jayzin seems to be one of ''those''. Those Vijays.

* He can often be found in the kitchen for his assigned duties.

== History ==
Jayzin is Vijay. Surely, that should be enough to summarize a single person in one word? At least, that is certainly how he has felt his entire life. It was not an easy life for Jayzin, even the earliest memories of life before his father was sent to the mines were fraught with tension. Not that he had many Turns before then, only five when the men of his clan were rounded up and sent off, abandoning women and children, and more importantly in Jay's small eyes, his pregnant mother. His sister Jyani was born to a different world than he was, one run by women as the Vijay clan picked up the pieces, a world where going without wasn't uncommon in that first winter. And even later, things never quite returned to the way it was before.

Taught by women from since he was young, Jay picked up the usual Vijay skills as easily as breathing, but he picked up other skills as well. More homely skills. That is to say, he really likes to cook and bake.

It wasn't until his father returned that the lifestyle he was subjected to for so long started to rub the young teenager the wrong way. Even the comfort in cooking was now something that the men ribbed on him on, marked by bullying words from even his own father for what they considered a too domestic task for their sons.

He objected to Jyani leaving the caravan, jealous of her escape, but feeling forced to continue his life there with the Vijays. There is a certain loyalty bred into all Vijays, it seems, and with such hardship, he couldn't bring himself to go away. That is, until his cousin put in a call for Vijay's to Stand. Still able to help the family in this way, he was quick to take the opportunity to distance himself from the type of life they lead.

== Relationships ==
[[Aishani]], cousin. <br>
[[Jyani]], sister.

== RP Logs ==

{{RP Logs | name = {{BASEPAGENAME}} | columns = 3 }}

{{#ifexist: {{BASEPAGENAME}}/Mentions | {{:{{BASEPAGENAME}}/Mentions}} | }}

{{#ifexist: {{BASEPAGENAME}}/Comments | {{:{{BASEPAGENAME}}/Comments}} | }}

{{Icons}}

{{HRW}}

[[Category:Characters]]
[[Category:Greater_Pern]]
[[Category:High_Reaches_Area]]
[[Category:High_Reaches_Weyr]]
[[Category:Residents]]
[[Category:Vijays]]

Jayzin

2014-07-05T14:22:20Z

Jayzin: found a typo

{{HrwProfile
|picture=Jayzin.jpg
|position=Candidate
|craft=
|birthplace=Caravan
|mother=Jai
|father=Sandeep
|siblings=Jyani (-5)
|children=
|friends=
|playedby=Charles Michael Davis
|livejournal=}}

== Description ==
This young man is made of symmetrical features, from the hooded eyes to the dark, gentle curve of his brows to the straight line of his nose. His jaw is round, though he does have the cut of cheekbones that give him definition. A rich caramel brown colors his skin with bright, coal eyes set in contrast to that, though his full lips hold a touch of pink. He has shaved his head, only leaving a dusting of dark hair to accent his scalp.

== WYSK ==
* Jayzin seems to be one of ''those''. Those Vijays.

* He can often be found in the kitchen for his assigned duties.

== History ==
Jayzin is Vijay. Surely, that should be enough to summarize a single person in one word? At least, that is certainly how he has felt his entire life. It was not an easy life for Jayzin, even the earliest memories of life before his father was sent to the mines were fraught with tension. Not that he had many Turns before then, only five when the men of his clan were rounded up and sent off, abandoning women and children, and more importantly in Jay's small eyes, his pregnant mother. His sister Jyani was born to a different world than he was, one run by women as the Vijay clan picked up the pieces, a world where going without wasn't uncommon in that first winter. And even later, things never quite returned to the way it was before.

Taught by women from since he was young, Jay picked up the usual Vijay skills as easily as breathing, but he picked up other skills as well. More homely skills. That is to say, he really likes to cook and bake.

It wasn't until his father returned that the lifestyle he was subjected to for so long started to rub the young teenager the wrong way. Even the comfort in cooking was now something that the men ribbed on him on, marked by bullying words from even his own father for what they considered a too domestic task for their sons.

He objected to Jyani leaving the caravan, jealous of her escape, but feeling forced to continue his life there with the Vijays. There is a certain loyalty bred into all Vijays, it seems, and with such hardship, he couldn't bring himself to go away. That is, until his cousin put in a call for Vijay's to Stand. Still able to help the family in this way, he was quick to take the opportunity to distance himself from the type of life they lead.

== Relationships ==
[[Aishani]], cousin.
[[Jyani]], sister.

== RP Logs ==

{{RP Logs | name = {{BASEPAGENAME}} | columns = 3 }}

{{#ifexist: {{BASEPAGENAME}}/Mentions | {{:{{BASEPAGENAME}}/Mentions}} | }}

{{#ifexist: {{BASEPAGENAME}}/Comments | {{:{{BASEPAGENAME}}/Comments}} | }}

{{Icons}}

{{HRW}}

[[Category:Characters]]
[[Category:Greater_Pern]]
[[Category:High_Reaches_Area]]
[[Category:High_Reaches_Weyr]]
[[Category:Residents]]
[[Category:Vijays]]

File:Jayzin.jpg

2014-07-05T14:21:25Z

Jayzin:

Jayzin

2014-07-05T14:20:52Z

Jayzin: Created page with "{{HrwProfile |picture=Jayzin.jpg |position=Candidate |craft= |birthplace=Caravan |mother=Jai |father=Sandeep |siblings=Jyani (-5) |children= |friends= |playedby=Charles Michae..."

{{HrwProfile
|picture=Jayzin.jpg
|position=Candidate
|craft=
|birthplace=Caravan
|mother=Jai
|father=Sandeep
|siblings=Jyani (-5)
|children=
|friends=
|playedby=Charles Michael Davis
|livejournal=}}

== Description ==
This young man is made of symmetrical features, from the hooded eyes to the dark, gentle curve of his brows to the straight line of his nose. His jaw is round, though he does have the cut of cheekbones that give him definition. A rich caramel brown colors his skin with bright, coal eyes set in contrast to that, though his full lips hold a touch of pink. He has shaved his head, only leaving a dusting of dark hair to accent his scalp.

== WYSK ==
* Jayzin seems to be one of ''those''. Those Vijays.

* He can often be found in the kitchen for his assigned duties.

== History ==
Jayzin is Vijay. Surely, that should be enough to summarize a single person in one word? At least, that is certainly how he has felt his entire life. It was not an easy life for Jayzin, even the earliest memories of life before his father was sent to the mines were fraught with tension. Not that he had many Turns before then, only five when the men of his clan were rounded up and sent off, abandoning women and children, and more importantly in Jay's small eyes, his pregnant mother. His sister Jyani was born to a different world than he was, one run by women as the Vijay clan picked up the pieces, a world where going without wasn't uncommon in that first winter. And even later, things never quite returned to the way it was before.

Taught by women from since he was young, Jay picked up the usual Vijay skills as easily as breathing, but he picked up other skills as well. More homely skills. That is to say, he really like to cook and bake.

It wasn't until his father returned that the lifestyle he was subjected to for so long started to rub the young teenager the wrong way. Even the comfort in cooking was now something that the men ribbed on him on, marked by bullying words from even his own father for what they considered a too domestic task for their sons.

He objected to Jyani leaving the caravan, jealous of her escape, but feeling forced to continue his life there with the Vijays. There is a certain loyalty bred into all Vijays, it seems, and with such hardship, he couldn't bring himself to go away. That is, until his cousin put in a call for Vijay's to Stand. Still able to help the family in this way, he was quick to take the opportunity to distance himself from the type of life they lead.

== Relationships ==
[[Aishani]], cousin.
[[Jyani]], sister.

== RP Logs ==

{{RP Logs | name = {{BASEPAGENAME}} | columns = 3 }}

{{#ifexist: {{BASEPAGENAME}}/Mentions | {{:{{BASEPAGENAME}}/Mentions}} | }}

{{#ifexist: {{BASEPAGENAME}}/Comments | {{:{{BASEPAGENAME}}/Comments}} | }}

{{Icons}}

{{HRW}}

[[Category:Characters]]
[[Category:Greater_Pern]]
[[Category:High_Reaches_Area]]
[[Category:High_Reaches_Weyr]]
[[Category:Residents]]
[[Category:Vijays]]