Logs:Some Candidates (Briefly) Discuss the Brawl
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| RL Date: 7 March, 2013 |
| Who: Ceawlin, Kaeden, Tiziano |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Ceawlin, Tiziano and Kaeden (briefly) discuss the day's events. |
| Where: Candidate Quarters, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
| Weather: Wind, rain, and snow combine to make for miserable, sleety weather today. |
| Mentions: K'del/Mentions, Brieli/Mentions, H'kon/Mentions, Alida/Mentions, Vienne/Mentions |
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| 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. Contents: Alida Kaeden Tiziano Obvious exits: Common Room The breakfast hour would be long over by now, even if it hadn't been interrupted by a sudden, near-brawl. As Kaeden walks in, soaked to the skin and still shivering off and on, his stomach gives off a rather loud grumble just before he stops near his cot and starts stripping out of his soaked clothing. The garments aren't actively dripping at this point, but there is the potential for small droplets of water to go flying as they're peeled away from clammy skin. "I've seen all sorts of altercations before," he announces to any candidates hanging around at the moment, but never riders." Splat goes both his shirts on the floor. Next up, sodden boots. Pale brows raise at Kaeden's entrance, icy blue eyes following his fellow Candidates movements from the relative safety and warmth of the cot that Ceawlin's butt seems to be planted on. A hide is set up in front of him, on a makeshift 'desk' that really is a flat, polished piece of wood that's set atop the covers. "Tsk, tsk," he clucks his tongue, "Getting all involved and stuff." Irony is heavy in smooth tenor. Tiziano is draped over his cot, which he totally dragged nearer to Ceawlin. Since, y'know, BFF! He's really not doing anything important at all. Waving his fingers in front of his face, amazed at the movement. Chattering just to hear himself speak in the vain hope that someone will answer. Someone being Ceawlin. It's guy love. "Crazy day," he mutters. "Don't even wanna leave this room. Feel like if I do, I'll get pummeled or something." He'd keep on talking, but Kaeden's reemergence has him sitting up on his cot and looking at the other candidate. "We totally had your back." Just incase he didn't know. "You get hurt or anything? What happened when they all went outside?" That's right. Answer all the questions! "Hey, the Weyrwoman told me to get in there," Kaeden counters, giving Ceawlin a half-hearted grin. Soggy boots are tugged off equally sodden feet, and he has to fish his socks out of the boots. There's a grim mutter about the boots, but otherwise he just keeps going. Modesty? Eh. As he's fighting to peel off his trousers, he spares a quick glance in Tiziano's direction. "Thanks," comes first, followed by a wobbly moment. The wet material just doesn't want to slide, so pretty soon the trouser legs are inside out. "No, I didn't, and... we all just got wet and cold, pretty much. What happened in the cavern?" Tiziano gets a side-glance from Ceawlin. Stalker. Then, he becomes the Question Man, barraging poor Kaeden with all the questions all at once. (Or so it seems). "Totally," the harper comments, drolly, in backing up Tiz's statement of having his back. Cross-legged as he is, the short apprentice bends further over to write on the hide that's in front of him, attention split between whatever it is he's writing -- Tiz can see that it's lyrics of some sort -- and his fellow Candidates. "So," idly started, "What did end up happening?" Maybe he's just as curious (but not wanting to show it!) as the effervescent Tiziano. "Hmmm, and you /are/ a good boy," the harper's jab comes with a dry humor in the upturn of lips and the crinkling around cold eyes. "Nothing. We all left. All the drama," entertainment, "had ended." Side-glance now to his stalker, implication in the uplift of eyebrows and expectation that sits 'pon sharp features: Right? Kaeden is finally victorious over the clinging trousers, making the drawers beneath rather easy. Then everything is replaced rather quickly with nicely dry, clean clothing, though the rapidity would be due more to feeling cold than any sense of nakedness. By the time he starts getting dressed again, he's covered in goosebumps, and certain parts of him have taken on a disturbingly blue tint. Luckily, no one has to any of that for long, because as soon as he's dressed, he starts looking for different shoes to wear. "Nothing happened. We got K'del outside, and he puked. H'kon and Vienne went to the infirmary, and Alida and I came back in. I mean, there were more accusations about murder and stuff, but that's about it." Shoelaces are tied, then Kaeden bundles his wet clothes and grabs his boots. "I need to go dry these by the hearth and get something warm in me. See you guys around." And seeing as he has nothing new to report, apparently, he leaves, his bundled clothing leaving a sparse trail of droplets. "K'del," incredulity once again filters in Ceawlin's fine, tenor'd tones, "puked?" This single statement says it all: Just what kind of fail bronzerider is this man? "Maybe he was drunk," the harper comments, lips pressing together to mask another cluck-clucking of his tongue and the slight shake of pale-haired head. "Later, Kaed." When Kaeden leaves, he shrugs at Tiziano and goes back to his work, silence overtaking to allow for better concentration.
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