Difference between revisions of "Logs:Taikrin is a Horrible Influence"

Taikrin's chore group has apparently been released a bit early today, and with good reason: they stink, down to the last candidate. "Ugh, forget it, I ain't /never/ wantin' t'work on a farm with herdbeasts." She's just in the process of stripping down: a boot covered in heardbeast patties is being tugged off awkwardly with her good arm. She's talking presumably to the supervisor who's been following her group around -- since he's standing right over her -- but he doesn't seem to be paying her a bit of attention. They've all grown accustomed to Taikrin's grumbling, it seems.

Shad hurries into the bathing pool room, looking nearly as dirty as Taikrin's group, though his dirt is of a different sort. Ash, soot, and the stink of hot metal. "Hi guys." He calls as he heads for a pool, kicking off his boots. "Man, I'm going to be late if I don't hustle."

Among the various greetings called Shad's way, Taikrin lifts a hand as well, calling out, "Oi, smith. Been workin' hard too?" See? She remembers. The last boot is finally tugged off, and from there she can't seem to shed clothes fast enough despite her clumsiness. "Y'ain't got more chores? Nearly dinner, now."

"Yeah. We've been working triple time trying to get the cave-in fixed." Shad says with a grimace, rolling his shoulders as he tries to work a kink out. "And I'm on food prep, so yeah, I have to hustle. Fortunately, peeling tubers is not as strenuous as hammering metal, but if I go in there smelling like this, the cook will /kill/ me." Shad makes fast work of stripping, and even faster work of getting into the water, though from the faint blush, that has more to do with being a bit body-shy than needing to hurry.

Taikrin pauses just on the point of entering the pool, an extra bit of pallor entering her face at that revelation. "Who d'you mean, we? They ain't sendin' people back in there yet, 'till they find out what happened like, are they?" She continues moving into the water, then, tucking her casted arm up behind her neck without any apparent concern about all the scar-ridden flesh she exposes in doing so. "Think we're all gonna thank you, not touchin' our food smellin' like that." The smile that accompanies the joke is weak, though, and there's an odd note in her voice.

"We as in miners and smiths, Taikrin." Shad says. "Don't worry. They're not trusting anyone who doesn't have training in there at this point. Not with two collapses. But the Journeymen and Masters are in there shoring everything up and trying to figure out why it collapsed, and us Apprentices are getting run ragged trying to keep up with the 'bring me this' and 'run this to so-and-so' and 'haul this out of here' orders." Then he snorts in amusement. "Yeah, yeah. I know. Smith-stink is a no-no near food."

Visible relief passes across Taikrin's features, bringing back some of her natural flush. "Well. Good t'hear that." Her voice remains a bit gruff, but she does sound otherwise pleased. There's a moment of quiet as she manages to dunk her head without wetting her arm, then, with water dripping down her face, she directs a more Taikrin-like smirk at Shad. "Gettin' run around like that, an' y'still gonna make us dinner. A regular hero, you are." Her tone is teasing, though, and without bite.

Shad shrugs as he scrubs. "Not really. Just doing what I'm expected to." He says, then stretches a bit, grimacing again. "And I think I managed to overdo it a bit. Shoulder is definitely not happy with me."

"Aw, poor hero smith." Taikrin does slosh over towards Shad, though, to inspect the aforementioned shoulder -- though she does grab a handful of sandsoap from a poolside bucket as she moves. "Y'gonna get one of them girl candidates t'take a look at it fer ya? One of 'ems a healer, now." To judge from the teasing grin Taikrin's wearing, she doesn't really consider herself one of those pack. "Some mighty nice-lookin' ones, might make it feel better."

Shad blinks at Taikrin, then gives a huff of a snort. "Not my type." He says. "Very not my type." And the fact he's not oogling her might give her a clue why. "I've got some salve in my locker in the barracks, so I can take care of it after dinner. Not really a big deal."

Taikrin is not to be deterred; she barely gives a blink before barreling on: "An', y'know, they brought in four boy healers t'go with 'er. T'look after us all. Guess they weren't so bad lookin', neither." A one-shouldered shrug is given. "These things always heal better when y'got someone makin' a fuss. Proven fact, y'know." A good sandsoaping follows this sage advice, made unusually awkward by her need to keep her right arm out of the water. "Yer loss, though."

Gabrion heads in from the inner caverns. Gabrion has arrived.

Shad and Taikrin (and Taikrin's choregroup) are in the bathing room, cleaning up. Shad gives Taikrin a startled look. That's pretty much the first time someone hold/craftbred has NOT freaked about the gay thing. Startling, but kinda nice. "You don't say?" And yes, that's more than a slight hint of interest in his voice. Then. "You need a hand? Scrubbing one-handed can't be easy."

Gabrion pads in with a towel and a little basket of girly-looking soaps and shampoos. His face is quite a sight: he looks like a raccoon, with two black eyes and a puffy red nose. Despite that, he's in a calm and placid mood. He catches sight of Shad and Taikrin and heads over that way, skinning out of his clothes unselfconsciously and climbing down into the pool. "Hey Shad," he says. "For sleeping in the same room, I haven't seen much of you. Hi, Taikrin." He remembered her name, this time.

Taikrin is indeed standing by Shad, sandsoaping up a midsection that has at this point healed of the most of its spectacular bruising, leaving only faint colored traces of nearly-healed contusions. The startled look is met with an arched eyebrow, and a declaration of, "Ain't my business where nobody sticks their junk, so long's everyone's willing. Y'should take t'Gabrion; they're his buddies." A pause, then she turns slightly to present her fantastically scarred back. "Got a problem reachin' around my left side. Wouldn't say no t'help." Speak of the devil-- Taikrin's head jerks as her name is called, and she opens her mouth to return the greeting, only for it to snap shut once she gets a good look at him. "What the shells happened t'you?!"

Shad's not looking at the door when Gabe walks in, so Gabe gets a pleasant greeting. "Hey, Gabrion. I kinda moved, at least for now." And then Taikrin's outburst has him turning to look. "Ok, who do I need to beat the shit out of?" he demands. Because Gabe? Definitely came out on the bad end of that fight.

Gabrion sighs quietly, even as he grimaces, pulling his mouth tight. "I ... broke my nose," he says quietly. "Rather not talk about it, if you don't mind." That request is polite, but firm. "How are you two doing?" he asks in a change of subject.

Taikrin gapes openly at Gabrion, a thundercloud of anger drifting across her face. "I can /see/ that. Shells, boy." But she's satisfied with merely giving him a /look/ before she relents. "C'mon over here, warm water'll make it hurt less." There's silence for a moment, as she scrubs thoughtfully at a spot of dirt on her neck, then offers, "I was just tellin' Shad 'bout some of them healers y'brought with ya. Some of them boys ain't bad lookin', in a little boy kinda way."

Shad gives Gabrion a look. "On whose fist?" He wants to know. He is SO not buying the 'accident' story. "Doin' fine. Still cleaning up the mess in the Bowl." He sighs. "Other than that, pretty good."

Gabrion joins the pair of them, as invited, and sets his bath kit on the ledge of the pool. He ducks under to wet his hair, then soaps it up to a good lather. Taikrin's comment about the healer apprentices brings a smile to his face. "Yeah, you want to watch out for Zekaro though. He's... well, he's bad news. And Emris follows him around like a little puppy dog. Osvald's okay though. I don't really know Aurille, or anything." Not that she's a boy. He glances briefly at Shad, but doesn't answer the question. "Glad to hear it," is all he says.

Since Shad was so kind as to offer, Taikrin once more indicates the spot on her back that she can't quite reach, with a murmured, "Hey Shad, a hand?" She does keep her gaze fixed on Gabrion, though, as if she could discern the owner of the offending knuckles merely studying the bruise. "Zekaro, huh? That th'one tryin' t'be smooth as ice with girly, then? I swear, that girl seems t'pick up all kinds'a the best sorts."

"Oh! Sure." Shad grabs the soapsand and gets to work, his touch entirely clinical and free of attempts to flirt/seduce. "Hmmm. I'll be avoiding Zekaro, then." He says. He can do without that type of person, he really can.

"Probably," Gabe says to Taikrin, with a faint grimace. "He's... like that." Shad gets a sober nod of agreement, and Gabe meets his eyes for a moment as if to reinforce the seriousness of the warning. Then he ducks under the water to rinse off his hair.

"Thanks," is the off-hand comment Taikrin shoots over her shoulder at Shad. She eyes him for a half-second, as if to make sure there's /really/ no funny business going on, then returns her attention to Gabrion. "He ain't-- he ain't been /hurtin'/ people, has 'e? 'Cause I swear, some of y'all make yerself /real/ easy targets."

"Definitely avoiding. Definitely." Shad grumps as he gets Taikrin cleaned off. "There you go." Then with a sigh. "And you should /tell/ someone about whoever kicked your ass, Gabrion."

"Not /physically/," Gabe says, but his dark frown remains and he eyes Taikrin with distaste. "What, you gonna start on us now?" he challenges. He flicks his gaze to Shad and rolls his shoulders slightly. "I did tell someone. But I'd rather not keeping talking about it. Like I said."

"Yeah, that's it, boy. Better watch out, I might stab ya while yer sleepin'." The remark is drolly made, complete with an eyeroll. "C'mon, now. I ain't done it yet. Thinkin' you guys need t'be quicker t'fight back, though. Nobody messes with me." Yeah, because Taikrin probably /would/ stab them, to judge from the impressive number of knife-caused scars visible on her body. She ducks herself under water, then, to rinse off the suds as Shad finishes. When she re-emerges, though, she's still apparenly on a war-path. "What /is/ it with you Weyr-types and not wantin' t'defend yerselves anyways? Shards, even Saliqa does it, and she ain't been 'round here so long."

Shad makes a disparaging noise. "Please, I didn't believe that the first time I heard it, much less the three hundred and first." He tells Taikrin. "And as for not wanting to fight, I can't speak for Gabrion, but for me, it's mostly not knowing HOW to. And I'd rather not get my ass kicked, thanks kindly."

"If I tried to fight some guy who outweighs me by half again, I'd get worse than a broken nose," Gabe says matter-of-factly. "But there's weyr folks who are pretty good at defending themselves. Just not me." He grins a bit at Shad.

"Oh, c'mon. Gotta be someone taught you boys how t'get /out/ of a fight, maybe. 'Specially you little ones." Taikrin eyes Gabrion measuringly, then allows, "Well, maybe they ain't. But c'mon, it ain't that hard. Y'know, roll with a punch, quick kick t'the junk, always go fer th'eyes, don't be afraid t'run-- y'guys gotta know this stuff. It's /basic/." In Taikrin's world, anyways. "Size ain't so important." A sudden smirk twists the corners of her lips upwards. "C'mon, nobody messes with me, an' I ain't so big."

"Oh, running away, I know. And can do. Defeating someone if I get cornered? Not so much." Shad says.

"I figured it was more because you know how to use knives and stuff," Gabe says to Taikrin with a little smirk. "You give any lessons in fighting for little people? Nobody ever taught me how to do any of that."

Gabe's comment certainly gets Taikrin's attention: her eyebrows raise nearly to her hairline, and her voice is startled. "What, me? Give lessons?" She turns, shifting to put both Shad and Gabe in front of her. "I dunno. Guess I could. S'long as th'Weyrleaders don't think I'm killin' y'all. Or that yer gonna go killin' someone." The cast that has been so carefully raised above water all this time is lowered to rest on her head. "Little guy like you, though... look like y'need it. Maybe next time y'won't come out lookin' like y'got in a fight with a herdbeast." She pauses, then, suddenly looking a bit insecure. "Y'all would-- would really be interested? In havin' me teach y'somewhat?"

Shad grins. "I wouldn't mind." He says. "Like I told you guys before ... I've never judged you lot. Yeah, you may've messed up, but you're still people, and as long as none of you mess with me, I'll keep thinking that."

Gabrion shrugs a little bit. "I got sucker punched. Dunno if anything would have helped with that," he says, "but... for other stuff... I wouldn't mind knowing how to get someone off me. If it came to it." He tilts his head thoughtfully when Shad speaks, and going by his expression he might have some reservations about /that/ open of an approach, but the smile he gives Taikrin is genuine.

"Well, three more sevendays, then I reckon I can be a real girl again." If Taikrin is surprised by their willingness to fight with a convict -- even for practice -- it doesn't show in the smirk she gives both boys. "Guess I could, one of these nights. See if I can't grab some of th'girls what could use some learnin', too. Maybe you guys could talk t'em?" Taikrin is very scary, see; girls are afraid of her. "Worry about some of them, what with some of th'fine examples of menfolk we got wanderin' around." Apparently satisified with her cleanliness for the time being, she leans back nonchalantly against the side of the pool. "Could be fun. Been feelin' like I been gettin' soft, not gettin' t'use this arm."

"I can try." Shad says as he finishes up as well. "Don't know that some of them will be willing, because they're definitely on the 'the convicts will slaughter us in our sleep' side of things, but I can try."

"...maybe so," Gabe says slowly, thoughtfully. "Silarra might want to. Don't really think I want to fight her, though, no matter what." Is he scared of a girl? He doesn't elaborate on his reasons.

"Bet I can get Saliqa t'do it." Taikrin is also thoughtful as she considers. "Nothin' too rough. Don't want nobody gettin' hurt outta hand. Bet I could still lick y'all even with one arm behind my back." That'd be literal now, too. She cracks a yawn, startling apparently even herself. "Shards, it's warm in 'ere. Feelin' like I might be ready fer that dinner, myself."

"And that's my cue to get the heck out of here." Shad says, climbing out of the water and drying off, pulling clothes on while he's still damp. "They're gonna kill me."

Gabrion reaches for his basket and sorts through the little soaps: he's not done with the washing up part of his bath. "Who's gonna kill you?" he asks Shad, puzzled. But he flashes a grin at Taikrin. "I bet you could, I'm not going to go pissing you off," he says cheerfully as he selects a soap and starts washing himself.

Taikrin pulls herself up to sit on the side of the pool, still danging her legs in idly. "Have fun cuttin' on those tubers, Shad." She leans forward, to stage-whistper to Gabrion, "He's our hero of th'kitchen, y'know. Cuttin' tubers even though he's got a horrible shoulder wound." The smile that's flashed towards Shad, while broad, isn't vicious. "Try not t'get beat up a'fore I can learn ya anythin', okay?"

"The cooks. I've got kitchen duty." Shad explains as he shoves feet into boots. "And I do not have a horrible shoulder wound. Just a strained muscle." And then he tosses the towel into the basket with the other dirty towels. "See you two around."

"Oh, alright. See you, then," Gabe says, pausing long enough in his scrubbing to wave. "I won't," he promises Taikrin.

"Yeah yeah, whatever." Taikrin waves her casted arm at Shad in farewell, though. "See y'later, Shad." She's just about to stand, too, when a sudden frown appears. "Oi, Gabe, been meanin' t'ask ya this. Where was it y'heard th'Weyrleader, uh, ordered th'rockfall a couple sevendays ago?" Gone is the teasing tone of moments before; she's direly serious, now.

Gabrion blinks at Taikrin and his mouth drops open. "I - what?" he says, flabbergasted. Then, vehemently, "I never heard any such thing! He didn't. He wouldn't. He's the /weyrleader/, he'd never do something like that!"

Taikrin looks equally as surprised, jaw dropping in mirror of Gabrion. "But y'said, a few days ago. That th'Weyrleader'd drop th'roof in on us again. Me and Xeo, we both heard ya." Taikrin has been giving this a lot of thought, apparently. "An' so we wanted t'know where y'heard it." A pause, then: "I ain't mad or nothin', I just want t'know if I gotta be watchin' my back, like."

Gabrion looks, now, like a really confused raccoon. "I what? No I didn't," he says, shaking his head. "What are you talking about? Why would I say something like that?"

"Shells, I dunno! But I swear, y'said it." Taikrin's eyes squint up as she studies Gabrion intently. "Y'really don't remember sayin' in, do ya boy? Y'sure y'ain't playin' 'let's not make the convict angry'?"

"I already got my nose broken once," Gabe says sulkily. "You think I'm going looking to have it broken again? I never said..." he breaks off, then, blinking. "Oh, are you talking about when I said that thing about how you guys weren't going to mess with anybody?"

"Yeah! That's the one. Then y'said somethin' 'bout the Weyrleader bein' involved, an' me an' Xeo wanted t'know where y'heard that." Suddenly excited -- in a worried for her life kind of way -- Taikrin leans further in towards the pool. "'Cause we need t'know if someone's comin' after us. These things keep happenin', see, an' maybe it ain't safe t'be here. I only got a few sevendays left; don't intend t'spend 'em dead."

"No," Gabe says, "no no no. I just meant - I mean you guys weren't going to /mess/ with anyone. Because if you did, then bad stuff would happen to you. I was just - that was just a stupid example, I didn't mean it really happened, or even that they would really do it. Probably they would just kick you out of the weyr and make you go back to those Crom mines if you did something. They don't... they don't /kill/ people here!"

Taikrin doesn't appear the least bit mollified; indeed, she's rather cross looking now. "Well. Y'know, it ain't a jokin' matter, what happened." Her voice adopts that gruff note again. "Lotta people died in there, killed or no. I almost died; there were a coupl'a stone more weight, I would'a." A long, rather relieved sigh escapes, despite her best efforts. "Well. If yer sure it ain't some rumor y'heard...

"It's not. I know what you mean, about it not being a joke but..." Gabe frowns. "I was just trying to get them off your back. Easier to do that by being a smartass than being all 'Oh you shouldn't be mean, you should be nice' like some kind of wussy tale-teller, you know?"

"I guess y'didn't mean it." Finally, Taikrin relents. "Didn't peg you fer th'sort what'd say that kinda stuff." Her legs kick once more in the water, then she's up and reaching for a towel. "Go an' ask th' cooks fer a slab of meat fer those eyes of yours," she advises in a not-so-subtle change of subject. "Gotta be nice an' cold. Best way t'take down all that color."

Gabrion grins faintly, but it fades. "Be a waste of good meat," he says. "It'll heal up soon enough." He reaches up to touch his nose, very gently, and looks sad.

"Ahhh, you can always cook it later." Word to the wise: never let Taikrin near the food stores and/or kitchen. "It'll taste just fine." A towel is run over her wildly-cut hair, then discarded as she pads back over towards a stack of clean laundry. It's quite obvious that it isn't her clothing, given the way she picks through it hunting for something in her size, but it /does/ have the somewhat tattered look of all the clothes the convicts have been given, so maybe nobody will notice. "If yer lucky, you'll have a nice little bend right there." One finger comes up and taps the bridge of her nose. "Gives y'that dangerous look."

Gabrion smiles, though his eyes are still sad. "I'd rather of not. But it's... it's one of those things where... I did what I had to do," he confides, though he doesn't give any further details. "So I guess it's okay."

Taikrin apparently finally finds a shirt to her liking, for she pulls it over her head swiftly. Now, for pants. "Ain't no shame in doin' what y'gotta do," is the sage advice. "Next time, just learn t'duck faster. I'll help y'out there. Aha!" That last is said as a suitable pair of pants are also absconded with. Slipping them on, she pads back towards the pool. "Just don't getcher self killed."

"No," Gabe says ruefully, "I don't think I'm willing to go quite that far, not at this point. A broken nose is about the limit of it, for me." He puts his soap away in his basket, after rinsing it carefully. "Thanks. I look forward to it. The lessons, I mean."

"Good." Taikrin is firm on that point. No dying. It isn't allowed. "Gonna go scrounge up some dinner, me." Her left hand is waved at Gabe, then, in farewell as she stomps into her boots and turns to go. "Look for me afterwards, in the barracks. Maybe we can go a round'r two."

"Okay," Gabe agrees, "as long as you can... not hit me in the face. If uh, if you think you might, accidentally, then maybe we should wait. But either way, I'll see you." He flashes a smile, again: he seems to like Taikrin.

Taikrin laughs, and shoots over her shoulder, "Deal. I won't hit yer face if you won't use my arm against me. It'd be cheatin', y'know." Still snickering to herself, she trots back around the bend and out of the bathing pools, calling out, "See ya, Gabrion."

"See you," Gabe says cheerfully, and ducks under the water to rinse himself and wash his face. Then he leans against the side of the pool to soak for a long time.