Difference between revisions of "Logs:Pretty Pretty Hair"

Weyrling Training Cavern, High Reaches Weyr(#392RJLs)

All the furniture here has been pushed to one side of the room to allow a large pathway opposite: room enough to let weyrling dragons pass from the bowl's archway to the cavernous barracks at the back. None of the furniture matches, either: it varies from big cushioned, claw-footed chairs to those of plain wood, while the most seating is at the two stone tables ringed by low and equally hard stone benches. Without the tapestries that decorate many of the Weyr's other interior spaces, the room always echoes with noise, no matter how few are there.

What it does have, however, are several colorful murals: on one wall, a detailed diagram of a dragon's anatomy; opposite, next to a creaky wooden door, a number of painted and labeled wing formations. Near the entrance is a large-scale version of the Weyr's badge, while the back wall, by the barracks, features a detailed map of the continent. The latter area's also home to one big, beat-up couch, black or maybe blue -- the thing's so old and filthy it's hard to tell, though it's certainly comfortable.

It's been happening. It was unavoidable. Those with long hair have been getting snagged here and there, returning later with mangled looking bobs. Those who were smart went and got their hair cut by someone else before a weyrlingmaster could catch them. Tonight it's K'zin and Sabella's turn and little Canie. She's poking through the greenrider's styling kit, a canvas roll up that has brushes, scissors and razors in it. The younger brown weyrling pricks her finger on one of the razors. "Shards, Sabs. These things are sharp." For her part, the older of the girls is dragging a pair of chairs over and laying some linens onto the floor to catch the cut hair. With narrowed eyes and half smile she shoots back, "Yeah, I keep them that way so little light fingers are less likely to put them in their pockets."

K'zin had been successful at dodging the snip-happy weyrlingstaff, holding out in hopes that he'd have a chance to bargain with Quinlys to try to prevent the inevitable. Rumor has it that a conversation with K'del perturbed the lad enough to resign himself. Something about lice in the barracks in previous turns. Ugh. Lice. He arrives, looking like he's about to attend his own funeral, while Rasavyth seems to be in great spirits - as it's no secret the young bronze has been on his lifemate about that dreadful style practically since birth. The bronze is simply here to manage the situation, make sure Sabs truly does know her craft, and to bite her if she thinks to stray from an acceptable style "by accident." Both brown and green weyrlings are offered a warm smile nonetheless as he arrives. "Choosing the implements to end my days as pretty Lady Smith? What can I do to help prepare for the tragedy?" His tone is melodramatic, trying to inject some humor into the otherwise uncomfortable ordeal.

Lice, ugh. Luckily Sabella hasn't heard anything about there being lice. It'd probably be unwise for any young dragons to bite her either, the heel of her boot looks to be hard and the shoe well constructed for dropkicks. When K'zin arrives, she gestures to one of the two chairs, "Take a seat, beautiful. We're going to try and keep you pretty." She smiles impishly at him and takes up a towel, ready to drape it around him before she can begin snipping away at his hair. "Just sit still and don't move around too much. This is minimal labor for you." Canie hops up into the other seat, watching him with bright eyes. "Dunno, Sabs. Ya just gonna cut it an' shape it up? Sounds borin'. Maybe ya could give 'em bangs?" The younger brown weyling makes snipping motions in front of her face at the older teenager.

Sabella: bane (or perhaps another b-word) in the babe's clothing. This is a 'everyone does as they should and no one gets hurt' situation anyway. K'zin is blissfully unaware of the danger of Sabs' boots. He eyes the chair as though it might bite him and then with a heavy sigh plops down. "Let's get this over with. I can't believe I spent all those turns growing this stuff, then one day an egg pops open, a dragon claims me for his own and I have to get a haircut. You'd think one day couldn't erase the work of three and a half turns, but here we are." He reaches a hand back to unwind the leather thong, which impedes the process of draping. "Think you could keep it kind of long-ish? Like, to my mouth or something? I think we're allowed that, aren't we? I don't want to be bald again." He glances over to Canie as he finally gets his hair undone, "You mean like N'hax? I don't want it that short." He looks pleadingly up at Sabs.

Luckily, Sabella doesn't seem to be in a kicking mood tonight. In fact, she's more cheerful than usual. Patiently she waits for him to unwind the thong from his hair and release it into her capable hands. "If it's any consolation, your hair is going to continue to grow after we graduate. You can have it all back if you want." When she can, she'll drape the towel across him so that he doesn't end up covered in clippings. Reaching for a bowl of warm water that she's keeping nearby, she'll begin the process of dampening what she plans on cutting. "I am, I don't plan on cutting it any shorter than that. You'll still be able to run your fingers through it. You won't look like N'hax." Sabs shoots a hard look to Canie for the comment. The younger girl wrinkles her nose at K'zin. "No. Like bangs. Like a girl. Like-" And she demonstrates by putting some fingers across her forehead to demonstrate. "Oh nevermind. Maybe ya should just it off."

"Yeah, but... three and a half turns!" K'zin argues pitiously. "That's like... forever!" Well, to a teenage boy anyway. "I mean, I'd be twenty before I grew it all back. Or more!" He juts out his lower lip in a pout. Canie's words aren't helping matters. "But I'm not a girl." He further protests. "Sabs, you are my savior. Why are you making graduation plans with N'ky to go to Ista instead of going on a drinking tour with me?"

"Oh, Canie. Stuff it please." Sabs tells the younger girl pointedly. The little brownrider falls silently, sulky in her chair. She won't pipe up much again, but she'll be watching K'zin and enjoying his discomfort the whole time. "No, you're not a girl. Now point your head forward and lift your chin please." With his hair treated, she pulls out the scissors and begins to snip. Practiced at working and talking, she hardly pauses when he mentions N'ky. But the confusion is there in her voice. "Graduation? Oh, I told N'ky I wanted him to go travel with me and we talked about going to Ista. But I didn't realized we'd set it for a specific time already, I was thinking of sneaking out earlier than that." That last part is spoken with her voice dropped a bit. The second half of what he says though garners genuine interest. "Drinking tour? Where are we going?" We. She's totally in.

Haircuts are foreign to him. So it is with great awkwardness that K'zin tries to interpret Sabella's instructions. After trying to put his whole head forward then up and figuring out on his own that that's not right, he tries one or two other variations before a glance to the chuff-laughing bronze, has him abruptly, "Ohhh." Then his head settles into the correct position. "He said you guys were going to Ista for graduation." The boy confirms, then tilts his head to one side (forgetting, apparently, that she's got sharp implement and his pretty-potential in her hands) before craning up to look at her, "Sneaking out?" He sounds concerned and impressed all at once. "I heard from one of the riders that it's sort of a tradition to go to all the bars you can get to on graduation night. For some anyway. I guess you do have to be careful what with betweening under the influence and everything. Wouldn't do to graduate and then pop out in the middle of a mountain, or some such."

When K'zin shifts his head out of alignment, she puts her hand on top of his head and gently re-directs him back where he needs to be. "Well, we are going to Ista. Maybe we could go to the bars there for our graduation? And all three of us could go?" Sabella suggests, her tone lifting at the end and the sound of a smile in her voice. Chunks of hair fall to the floor and on his shoulders. "I hear that there's at least two at the weyr." If his bronze is keeping an eye on things he can relay that it looks well enough and she's almost halfway down already. "Well, by sneaking out I mean..." And she trails off. "Getting away as soon as we can between on our own and don't have to tell anyone where we're going. I want to do a lot of exploring." Snip. Snip. "I imagine at a certain point you stop betweening and you just lay down on the ground and go to sleep."

"Oh right." K'zin remembers what's going on and holds his head still again. "Iesaryth was telling Rasavyth about the southern beaches. Now he wants to go there." This is said with a groan. "He wants to go see and do all kinds of things. And he wants me to see them and do them too." The weyrling sounds as though this were in the top ten worst things Ras could ask of him. "Where all do you want to visit?" He questions the hairdresser as she works. "N'ky didn't offer for me to come along. So I'm thinking I'd be a third wheel."

Snip. There's a comb involved now and she's moving his hair around while she gets it down. K'zin can't see her, but Sabella's drawn her eyebrows together and her mouth is pursing. She's quiet back there for a minute or so while he speaks. "I don't think it would be so bad for you to indulge him now and then. You might even discover that you like visiting new places, then it won't be such torture." She snips a couple of more times and then it's back to combing the shortened length of it. "I want to go everywhere. If I can." Her excitement is restrained, but there. Most certainly there. "He probably just didn't think, that happens sometimes. I'd like you to come? If you don't feel comfortable we can bar crawl just the two of us instead."

"Well, I guess." K'zin responds half-heartedly to her thought of his indulging his dragon. "I don't suppose it would kill me to go other places. Unless I between poorly." There's a crease in his brow, but a snort from the bronze soon puts that concern to rest. "Everywhere? That sounds like... a lot of time. Any places especially?" He bites his lower lip as she talks of the graduation plans, "Well, I definitely can't steal N'ky's graduation plans from him, but-- um, you see there was this thing about this girl that we both kissed during candidacy, and n-not that you would kiss me." Channeling N'ky? "But I guess he was still mad at me when he was mentioning it, so maybe I could see if he minded?"

"I know this is going to be hard, but please stop suggesting ways that we can die while on our dragons." Sabella laughs while she says it, so it doesn't have the bite that it would coming from someone else. There's a couple of chairs pulled around to one corner of the cavern, one of them is occupied by K'zin who has been getting his long, beauitful hair cut. The other sits the mousy little brown weyrling from Crom, though she's largely quiet now. Sabs is just finishing her work and running her comb through one last time. "I want to go down to the Southern continent. First. Then maybe Bitra? It always sounded exciting. We covered that we're going to Ista, so." That sounds like it's hardly all she wants to do, but for brevity's sake here. She reaches behind her and picks up a mirror, leaning over and also leaning on K'zin's shoulder as she hands it to him. "It's not stealin-" Pause. Eyebrow lift and twist of a smile that he might catch in the mirror. "How about this... We don't worry about graduation right now or if N'ky minds. You're coming. We'll figure the rest out along the way."

K'zin grins into the mirror - at Sabs, "You know, I'm pretty tired of worrying. Had my fill of it for today. So let's go with that." Then brown gaze shifts to his own face, brows jumping in alarm. "Shells and shards, I don't look like me." Hands come up to run through the freshly-shortened locks, fingers getting to the ends and desperately searching for more. He sucks in breath, holds it, closes his eyes, counts to ten and lets it out. "Am I at least still pretty? Guess I'll have to toss my old gather dress." It must be good if he's joking so soon. Rasavyth, who has been settled off to one side, rights himself and moves closer, coming 'round the front to get a better look for himself (despite the image he can see in the mirror through his lifemate's eyes. After a moment he rumbles approvingly, and that sets K'zin to laughing. "Ras says you can be my hair dresser whenever I need a cut. Is it your turn now?"

D'kan and Kazavoth appear to be just passing through as they make their way from the barracks toward the bowl. The weyrling's steps slow before the dragon's, though both are glancing toward the scene of the hair cutting. "Did they force that on you, or is it a stylistic choice?" D'kan calls over, giving both Sabella and K'zin a lopsided grin. Kazavoth gives a last look toward the bowl before he changes course toward Rasavyth, and D'kan just follows.

"Do yourself a favor, don't worry tomorrow either." Sabella suggests gently as she just continues to lean her forearm against his upper shoulders. She's light, he'll probably barely notice she's there. There's an expectant look on her face as she watches him go through that series of reaction in the little mirror. He jokes and she exhales something in relief. "You're gorgeous. So pretty we'll have to get you a new dress for next turn over." She pushes off of him and freezes when he mentions it being her turn. Nervously, "Oh?" She clears her throat. "I'll do it myself later." Stalling. Canie pipes up, "Let K'zin cut it! He's like a girl anyway. Righ'?" Death stare at the other girl, death stare. Look, D'kan is here. "Hello!" Distraction.

"I'll see what I can do." K'zin agrees, then there's D'kan's question and he calls in a comedically mournful voice. "Forced! K'del said there's going to be lice! Or that there was lice when he was in here. And do you see how many of the others the weyrlingmasters have dragged off to return them less pretty than when they went?" He gets up from the chair, hair fluttering off the drape Sabs put around his neck and he stoops, pocketing a lock of the long tresses from the first cut. His eyebrows rise at Canie's suggestion, "You know, Canie, you might be costing me a graduation party." He bites his lower lip, "I can though. If you trust me." He looks at Sabs. He knows a good thing when he sees it, and the friendly rapport with this hairdresser? It qualifies. So he's not going to rock the boat.

Kazavoth gives the hair clippings a distant sniff, his mindvoice a quietly amused humming that is void of color, scent or further comments. He might share the briefest look with any present clutchsiblings, but that is all. The bowl and its evening splendors call to him. D'kan lingers, however, even after the brown has readjusted course back toward the bowl. "Lice, huh?" he asks, tone full of skepticism, though like his lifemate, he also keeps his comments to the barest possible as he spares a very quick look toward Canie. "Sabella, do you really want a former Smith taking a blade to your hair?"

Canie slips out of the chair after she makes her brilliant suggestion. She flashes an impish smile at the older boy before she goes flouncing past D'kan and his dragon, off to other more exciting things than them apparently. Aghast, "Lice?" Horror is on her face now. She didn't know that. Sabella looks after the departing weyrling and then at K'zin. Then her scissors. She takes a breath and passes them off to him, handle first. "Just do it in a straight line across. About an inch over the shoulder. Use the water so you can comb it out straight." This is either a grea- No, it's probably not great. It's probably a bad idea. Sabs expression tells that she knows it. She sits in the chair anyway and drapes the towel over her own shoulders. "No." That answer is for D'kan. "But I don't want lice either. I really don't want lice."

D'kan stares at the two younger weyrlings for a moment, his face expressionless right up until he puffs out a quick laugh. His mouth opens to comment, but then he just closes it again to give them a wide smile before offering the most casual of salutes. "I'm going to grab dinner," he announces as he begins catching up to Kazavoth, who's nearly to the bowl already. "If you want, I'll swing by the nursery and bring you guys some security blankets." It's a tease, and a light one at that, but soon enough he and his brown are lost to the evening's darkness.

"You think K'del would go to the trouble of lying about that kind of thing? Not like he cares much how our hair looks, though he did seem to think my long hair pretty silly." K'zin seems to reconsider his position on the topic even as he speaks. Now that K'zin is taken care of, Ras' attention wanders. Well, there came Kazavoth, and there went Kazavoth. With muted curiosity, the slender bronze slinks after the brown. The former Smith accepts the scissors, rounding the chair as he comments, "She could pick worse kinds of crafters to hold scissors. I'd imagine a weaver or healer'd be best, but at least as a Smith I've held scissors before and know how to cut things in straight-" -ish. "- lines." His brow furrows, "What'd you do before coming here again, D'kan? Are you a hairdresser and I just never knew? By the way, compliments on your job teaching N'ky to dance. He did pretty good at the feast." He begins to follow her instructions with the water. Too much water! As it ends up. "Oops." That's off to a promising start. At least he's not using the scissors yet!

Sabella doesn't even comment about the subject of K'del possibly lying about lice. He better not be, that's what her expression says. The brownrider is making his exit to the bowl and she exhales, muttering darkly after him. "Oh, I'll get you a security blanket." This is her hair we're talking about. And while she's not as vocal as K'zin was about the process, the distress is etched into the lines of her face. Deep breath, be brave. "It's alright. Just run the comb through until you get it all straightened up. Then pretend my hair is something really important that your Master will kick your ass for if you fuck it up. Straight, straight line across." Quite the pep talker. She tips her chin up and looks straight ahead.

K'zin grins after D'kan, and it's probably for the best that the brownrider goes when he does. If K'zin has a chance of getting this right, it's best to be without distraction. He tucks the scissors into his belt and picks up the comb. At least Canie had one thing right: he is like a girl - at least in the respect that he's used a comb before and therefore is not fumbling through her locks. He's careful and gentle, combing it out straight. "Straight line." He confirms before plucking the scissors out carefully. "Stay still." He warns before: SNIIIIIIP.

That's a loud snip. Sabs swallows hard and closes her eyes as she feels her long hair get cut, the way it probably hits her shoulders and then lands on the ground. For all the horror that's passing over her face, she's not moving while K'zin works. She sits like a good girl with tense shoulders, face pointed straight ahead while she endures this torture. Also, completely silent.

K'zin remains silent for the duration of his cutting, alternating between comb and scissors, trying in earnest to achieve a straight line. Once he feels he's finished, he takes a deep breath, setting scissors and comb aside, snagging up two mirrors and holding them so the front reflects the back. "That alright?" Actually, there's something to be said about Smiths and scissors: they don't suck! It's not perfect, but it's not too far off .

She doesn't open her eyes right away. It takes a moment and then she's doing much the same thing he was a few minutes ago. Her hand goes back and her fingers run through her hair, reaching for more and not finding any. With reluctant eyes she draws her gaze up to the mirror and looks at her new style. Sabs sighs in relief. "I thought it was going to be so much worse." Which sounds like it's a compliment. She resolutely doesn't look at any hair clippings on the floor and quickly pulls the towel off of herself. Belatedly, she glances back over her shoulder at him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," K'zin answers after his worried expression smoothes out at her sort-of-compliment. He'll take it and not complain. He fidgets where he stands for a second after setting the mirrors down. Then he looks at the green weyrling for a long moment. "You look really nice with short hair, Sabs." He offers as a compliment and looks as though someone slapped the back of his head, "I mean beautiful. You look beautiful." Could someone be coaching? Ras certainly doesn't appear to be paying any attention. Color touches the former Smith's cheeks, and he says quickly, "I'll get a broom for all the--" He gestures before hurrying to find one in a side-cabinet. He returns with it, and dustpan, a few moments later.

Sabella has already picked up the comb and is brushing her hair down, feeling the edges so she can learn where the truly uneven parts are. She's biting down on her lip, thinking. So lost in her own thoughts, she barely registers the first compliment he delivers. It's the add on of the second, more refined one that catches her attention. It's thinly veiled surprise that flashes across her face, then a little confusion as he hurriedly moves off to get the broom. "K'zin-" Gone. Her eyebrows furrow together briefly and she tucks stray hair behind her ear, kneeling down to collect the sheet on the ground. There shouldn't be a huge mess for him to sweep. But there is something. He's back and she reaches out, tugging on the bottom of his pant leg as she gathers the bundle and tipping her chin up to look at him. "Hey?"

K'zin had begun to sweep the moment that he returned, blush beginning to subside. When his pant is tugged at though, he clutches the broom to his body, pulling it in close with both hands. "Yeah?" He tilts his head down to look at her with his gentle brown eyes.

That slightly hairy bundle is gathered up and held close to her chest as she stands. "You're very sweet." Sabs smiles slowly at him as she steps past him, pausing to lift onto her toes and drop a little kiss on his cheek. "Thanks for the compliment. Even if it's not exactly true right now." There has to be a laundry bin around here someplace. Wherever that is, that's where she goes to drop off the sheet and towels. Eventually returning to gather up the rest of her haircutting tools.

K'zin blinks after her after the kiss arrives on his rosy cheek. Then he gives a little nod. His broom goes over the area, and the stray tresses are swept into the pan he brought and he too, heads off. Gone entirely before the green weyrling comes back.