Logs:Finding Candidate Robes That Fit
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| RL Date: 16 July, 2007 |
| Who: Nathein, Ayson, Madison, Talien |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| When: Day 6, Month 10, Turn 12 (Interval 10) |
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| The whine in Lystia's voice penetrates the barracks; "I can't wear /this/!" /This/ is a sheathe of white cloth she's holding up against herself while wearing an utterly repulsed expression. At this time of night, still after dinner while some candidates are doing chores or having baths or finishing a meal, the barracks are dwindled to only a dozen candidates; all twelve of them are currently going through the open-topped crates lining the wall near the entrance, all rifling through mounds of white fabric with looks ranging from Lystia's outrage to Trinsin's sulk. Very few reactions are good. Ayson is at one of the crates, holding a robe upagainst his body. He doesn't look truly unhappy with the choice of clothes, but he's not jumping for joy either. The man eyes the robe in his hand, and frowns when he encounters the rip going down the front. "I don't understand why these aren't repaired after the hatching? Does everyone just get lazy after the eggs hatch?" Talien numbers among whatever few have no reactions - settled on her cot with her legs folded and arms resting snug around a pillow clasped to her stomach, she watches the goings on of the robe sorting extravaganza with an expression akin to boredom. The expression changes, however slightly, when she hears Ayson's question. Wryly, she calls out, "Sure - why not? There's no need to impress anyone then." Her wit earns her several groans. "Hey, are there any small ones?" The young girl asks, looking towards Ayson and Talien. "Nathien there will have to sew two of them together." She giggles. "Find a small one, Ayson!" Nathein moves away one of the robes with a stain, a suspiciously rust-colored stain in streak down one side, makes sure to flourish the stained portion in Ayson's direction; "They may have other things on their minds." He gives Madison an unamused look, which serves him well since he uses the exact same look to meet Talien's so-called joke. "You ought to be able to just cut holes in your pillowcase and wear that, Maddie, save the trouble." "Oh no, not at all. We wouldn't want future candidates to think we cared about them in any way by actually fixing and mending things when they break." Ayson grumbles, replying to Talien's comment literally. He then places the badly ripped one off to the side. "I'm not talking about the candidates, but the weyr in general after the hatching. It should be on someone's to-do list, somewhere." He replies, eyeing the flourished garment. "Fantastic, I think the stain there really matches your eyes, Nathein." His lip pulls up in a half grin before he begins digging through again. Talien pulls a face at Nathein for his unamused look, though at Madison's, she slowly rises to her feet and treks slowly toward the crates. Her face wrinkles with barely contained disgust at spotting the contents. Waving a hand in front of her face, she says, "Did someone forget to bathe or do these things stink worse than Nat's feet?" "Worse than Nat's face you mean." A giggle comes as she hops up and hurries over towards the garment pile. "I'd probably look better in it, Natty then you would in anything." She winks at him. Nathein pulls out a robe without a stain or slipped stitch to it, holds it up against his chest for measure. Unfortunately, it falls well short of the right size, and he's just about to toss it back when Lystia practically rips it from his hands and goes parading off, her work done. He nods toward that example; "They're not all so bad. -- And why is it suddenly pick-on-Nathein day? Talien's the one with bad jokes." "I swear to you that I'm doing it out of a, uh, brotherly affection for you. I don't know what everyone else is using for an excuse." Ayson smirks at him and holds up another one against his body. "Does this one flatter my figure?" He jokes, mimicing one of the girl candidates nearby, one who shoots him a 'fear while you sleep' look. Talien makes yet another face at Nathein, this time going as far as sticking her tongue out, "Obviously," she then declares with maturity not matching her preceding action, "You've not heard the one about the rider, the ship and the Watch-wher." An imperious toss of her head follows with Ayson being pinned at the end of it. She looks the whole of him up and down, the motion garnering a look that is considerably lacking in approval. "Thought I saw one over there," she answers with a vague wave of her hand toward his cot, "Looked to be about your size, too." Madison sighs a bit before she looks around into the tunics. "Maaaaan." She says looking at Talien. "No, he's too silly to wear something flatening. Make the girls think he's handsome or something." She makes a face. "Uck." Nathein measures up Ayson with his robe, breaks into a brief laugh. "If you wear your hair up, definitely. Or get some of those clippy things; barrettes?" He tries to pantomime the gesture of clipping barrettes into his hair, and it's a good thing he doesn't actually have to know how to use clippies. "Noooo, and I don't think I want to, Talien." Ayson shakes his head at Nathein, "On the contrary, I think she should definitely tell us the story. Pass the time quicker while we go through these things." His half grin returns, and placing the robe down on the box, he pushes his shaggy hair away from his face. Pretending to be a girl putting her hair up. "Like so? Yes, I think barrettes would be a perfect addition." He laughs and rolls his eyes at Madison. Taking her comment in good humor he responds, "Oh no, of course not. We wouldn't want to attract girls." Talien's vague comment is greeted with a raising of his eyebrow. "Why would there be one there?" "Madison," Talien says at once, "C'mere," Crooking a finger in the younger candidate's direction, Talien leans forward to whisper something - Nathein obviously is the subject of the discussion as Talien sneaks looks his way the whole time. At the end of whispering whatever it is she's whispered, Talien has quite the grin going and a boastful, "Trust me," for the girl. To Ayson she says, "Dunno, maybe another candidate dropped it or something. It was too big for me so I just shoved it under your cot." Casually dismissive of the matter, she leans toward the box with one foot kicked up behind her. "Ok, so it goes like this. There was this sailor on a boat and he'd been on it for a while without seeing -anything-...." "Oh, you want some barrettes in your hair, Nathein? Are you a big girly girly girl?" The young girl asks before she begins to dig into the box as she ruffles around inside of it, actually. "No," Fwing! Goes a tunic. Fwing! another one.. What's good for the goose... or the gander, considering. Nathein drops his voice after a moment, his smile fixed in Talien's direction as he mumbles something to Ayson. After that, he shakes out a couple of the robes, blows out a breath as they prove to be too small. Again. "You know it, Maddie. If I could find dresses in my size..." Nathein mutters to Ayson, "... girl's... get... for a... for... us... just go have... word with her,..." Ayson shakes his head as Nathein continues his search, "Maybe we should just sew two together for you. Shards, they could at least keep them in size order." He casts a confused glance at Talien and an even more confused glance at the other man when he speaks in low tones to him. "Erm? I hardly see her... oh fine." He flinces a little when Madison begins to fling robes around, but makes his way over to Talien. "Lets look at this mystery robe together, shall we?" He does take time out to call back over his shoulder, "If you could find dresses in your size, I'm sure you'd get all the ladies, Nath." "Men." Talien declares with an annoyed huff before spinning on her heel and following after Ayson. "It's over -there-, under your cot, right where I put it after I found it." Stealing a look at him from the corner of her eyes she adds (quite benevolently), "I hid it there. On purpose 'cause it looked like such a good find I didn't want anyone stealing it from you." "Oh my gosh Talien, why don't you just go up to Ayson and kiss him." She eyerolls and makes the throwing up sound before she tosses a dirty looking rag towards Talien and giggles, diving back down into the candidate robes. Nathein muffles a chuckle by bending over into a crate so that he's scraping the bottom with his fingers. "Not sure I'd want those particular ladies, but your vote of confidence goes a long way, Ayson." He throws two robes over his shoulder, one across each, and starts across the room toward his cot again. By the time he sits down, he has to cough to cover a burst of laughter after Madison's blatant advice. Ayson rolls his eyes again at Madison. "She has such a big gossipy mouth, just ignore her." He tells the older of the girls, in a low voice so as not to carry to the robe diving Maddy. As he kneels down and begins searching underneath the cot, he replies "Come on, some lipstick on them and a few drinks in you? I'm sure you won't be noticing the difference." Ay pretty much has rub his hand over his face to refrain from laughing. "Ah ha, got it." He looks up at Talien as he pulls it out. "Thank you, but why are you thinking about my clothes?" Talien's not swift enough to bat the rag away, though when it drops to the ground she retrieves it and volley's it back in Madison's direction. By then, Madison's already in the robes leaving Talien to comment... nothing, apparently, for as Ayson's words are heard, Talien ers on the side of wisdom and (for once) listens. Such can not be said for hearing his later remarks which gain an affronted frown and both arms crossing over her chest. "You know... neither of you two are prime catches-" There's a quick beat, then, "I wasn't thinking about your clothes! Geeze, I try and do something nice and suddenly I'm in love with you?" Nathein sits down, raises his eyebrows, and tries to smother a smile about Ayson's question to Talien, a smile that turns to the chuckle when the lady doth protest. He doesn't say much more for the evening, busies himself ripping the stitches out of his two robes and trying to convince one of the girls to sew them back together, size appropriate. Prime catch or not, it doesn't take too long to find a willing needle wielder. |
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