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 Posted: Sat Oct 03, 2009 9:48 pm
Candidate chores were not something Kyllae particularly enjoyed. She had no problem with working. Hard work was important, it showed dedication and discipline. It was just that, well…she wasn’t good at cooking, or cleaning, and the majority of candidate chores seemed to revolve around things like those. Thankfully, thankfully, she had been able to snag laundry for the most part today, and while cleaning other people’s clothes wasn’t exactly the most entertaining thing in the world, it sure beat making a fool of herself trying to prepare food or sweep the floor.
Having just hung up a load to dry, she was making her way to the kitchen for a quick snack and maybe a cup of klah, before she had to go out and resume working. She hummed a little as she walked, bouncing a little with each step. It was a fine time to be a candidate, with a world of possibilities lying inside of each and every one of the brilliant eggs sitting on the sands, hardening at this very moment. And, why, she would be allowed to stand for them! This was her chance to impress too! She could show up those haughty sisters of hers, she could do just as well as they! She didn’t want to give much thought to the idea of not impressing. Worst case scenario…well, she could wait until the next clutch. At seventeen, it wasn’t like she was hard pressed for time, but she didn’t have that many clutches left to try for either. She could expect about a clutch a year, right? At least, that was what she had been told to expect. Just one a year? Yikes, that was quite an interval. But…it was worth it. The chance to impress was worth near anything, in Kyllae’s mind.
Arriving in the kitchen, any other train of thought was put temporarily on the backburner as she scouted out any potential food bits she could get her hands on.
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Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2009 6:23 am
Bashir's chores were in the afternoon this time. Usually he woke at an obscene hour of the morning to complete them before he went to train with his father and grandfather, but today there had been no one for him to report to. He'd forgotten that it was the fourth day, and so his chores would be in the afternoon. At least it hadn't been the other way around. He hated that delinquent feeling he got when he slept through his chores. Lessons had run long that morning, however, and so Bashir had been forced to forgo his usual noon bath and go to his chores all sweated up from training. He was nearly late, even so.
As he jogged into the laundry chambers, Bashir automatically scanned the area for any other candidates that might be on duty. He preferred to work with others, though his usual schedule didn't allow that. Very few people were willing to rise as early as he did to do chores, after all. When he saw a blonde head standing considerably higher than anyone else, including himself, he heaved a very softy sigh. Kyllae. Wonderful. There were so many things about her that he disapproved of that he couldn't even begin to list them all, though the most obvious one was something he knew she couldn't help: a girl had no right to be so sharding tall.
He slowed his pace to a walk and waited while she finished hanging up a load of laundry to dry before he announced his presence to the room in general. He was greeted by the other workers by name and a few asked after his father and A'ram. He answered them politely as he went to work, putting Kyllae out of his mind until the head laundress tapped him on the shoulder and asked if he wouldn't mind fetching Kyllae back from the kitchen, as there was more work to be done. He went, of course, but in the back of his mind he was trying to figure out exactly how few words he could speak to her and still convey that she was to return to the laundry room and to work. He couldn't believe she had just taken off like that, even with permission.
At least she was actually in the kitchen, where she was supposed to be. He didn't know where else she might go, but it might have been anywhere. Except, maybe, the hatching sands. She wouldn't be idiotic enough to do that. Dorath would have a fit, as would everyone else in the Weyr. This was the first clutch in turns to have a gold egg. Anyone who jeopardized that would be a very unfortunate pariah. Kyllae liked people too much to risk that. But she was in the kitchen, so there was no need for him to dwell on that slim possibility.
"Laundry?" he called across the kitchen. Everyone else ignored him, so he hoped Kyllae would figure out he was talking to her.
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Princess_Feylin Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2009 7:37 am
Kyllae was scouting about the room, making sure not to bump into any of the other people, lest she cause someone to drop something that could be dinner, or even a snack. Wasted food did no one good. Kyllae loved the kitchen. Though she couldn't cook, she enjoyed watching other people, and the smell was intoxicating. Already she was looking forward to the next meal, far off as it might be.
When the call of 'Laundry' came across the room, Kyllae turned, even as she accepted a slice of bread from one of the busy kitchen workers. One good thing about the lack of people here, was that there always seemed to be a surplus of food, and she had yet to encounter any stingy kitchen staff. Really, was she being requested to go back already? She had asked for only a minute or two, to grab a bite. But oh well, these things couldn't be helped, Klah could wait.
Identifying Bashir as the source of the noise, she flashed him a smile, and pranced closer, prize in hand. "'Lo there," she greeted, not in the least bit shy. "Would you like some?" she questioned, indicating her bread. Sure, she had come down here for herself, but, really, it was only bread, and she could bring herself to share. Not that he looked like he wanted any. Kyllae...got the less than subtle feeling that Bashir didn't exactly like her. Or maybe he was like that to everyobdy. Why wouldn't he just smile? It wasa lot easier to get along with someone when they made an effort to be friendly and outgoing. Oh well, it wasn't that big a deal, one couldn't expect everyone to conform to her ideals.
Tearing off a piece of the bread with her fingers, she chewed it slowly, eyes never leaving Bashir. "I suppose you're here to bring me back?" She inquired, though the answer was almost certainly yes. It wasn't like he was down here to spend any personal time with her, Kyllae got the impression that Bashir was all business. She resigned herself to the fact that her break was to be cut short, but kept herself cheery with thoughts of the eggs hardening on the sands. One of those could be for her! That was enough to make her giddy, break or no break.
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Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2009 6:43 pm
Bashir watched with some amazement at Kyllae pranced - pranced! - toward him. While he wasn't a dour person, by any stretch of the imagination, he did find that her cheeriness bordered on excessive. Yes, life at High Reaches was pretty good, particularly if a person came from a less than pleasant background, but he got the feeling Kyllae had always been like this. Still, he wasn't going to be the one to bring her down. Disapproving of a person didn't mean he had to be unpleasant toward them. Besides, there was always the terrifying possibility that she would end up Impressing the gold egg that was on the sands, and then he would have to learn to get along with her.
He shook his head. Woolgathering again. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately, and at some point he'd have to sit down and figure out why. He couldn't afford to pay anything less than perfect attention to most of his activities. Even chores, done wrong, could result in calamity. Besides, they quickly became monotonous if he didn't make himself engage completely in whatever activity he'd been assigned as a chore. It occurred to him belatedly that Kyllae probably thought his mind-clearing head shake related to her, and it truly didn't. It was, in fact, supposed to get her off his mind.
"Thanks, but no," he answered as pleasantly as he could. In truth, he wouldn't have minded having a bit of the proffered bread, but he couldn't bring himself to accept it. He would wait and eat at mealtime, like everyone else.
"And, yes, I'm here to bring you back. Apparently our head laundress seems to find you indispensable and cannot do without you for any length of time." His tone should have indicated that he was joking, but without the matching facial expression it was even odds she wouldn't realize it. Some people never listed, and so they missed much. He had no way of knowing whether Kyllae was one of them, but it seemed that someone who craved attention as she did was someone who couldn't be very good at sparing any of her attention for others. Which was really too bad, because he was making an effort, though he'd originally intended to avoid any speech beyond the strictly necessary.
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Princess_Feylin Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2009 8:34 pm
Kyllae was absolutely bursting with a combination of happiness and energy. Really, what wasn't there to be excited about? Eggs EGGS EGGS! It was all she could think about. It was also the reason she was constantly humming, singing, dancing and, yes, prancing. How else to express herself? Words weren't enough, obviously. Despite Bashir's less-that-enthusiastic response to her antics. What did it matter, he just wasn't feeling the same thing she was. It was unlikely he ever did. Oh well.
Did he...did he shake his head at her? Was he disapproving? That wasn't very nice, and for a moment, her mouth threatened a frown, but she quickly caught herself. She wouldn't let a party pooper like Bashir ruin her good mood. He didn't know what he was missing, what with his dour, less than stellar outlook on life. He wasn't someone she would go out of her way to socialize with, but seeing as he was available at the moment, and she was in such a good mood, she felt more than up to attempting to socialize. "Oh well then, more for me I guess," she chuckled, and tore off another piece of bread with her fingers, and quickly downed it.
Kyllae normally prided herself on being able to gauge how people were feeling, but, well...Bashir was absolutely nothing like her, and so it was hard for her to pick up on his emotions. Add that to the fact that he didn't smile, and, well...she was confused. "I hope that's a joke," she remarked, waggling a finger as she turned and began her march back to the laundry work. "Because everyone knows by now that I can't clean to save my life," she laughed good-naturedly, and then took a moment to finish her bread. It wouldn't do to be eating by the work station, and she might accidentally dirty clothes she'd just cleaned.
Cheerful as all get out, Kyllae figured she could at least try and be nice. Even if she didn't think he was making much of an effort. "So Bashir, where'ya from?" she questioned, turning her head to look over her shoulder at him. "Pardon my curiousity, but I like to know the basics of people that could very well end up being my wingmates," she added, flashing him a mischievous grin. How funny would that be, if they ended up impressing and getting stuck together on the same wing. Actually, probably not any fun at all, but she could pretend it would be.
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Posted: Mon Oct 05, 2009 6:37 am
Bashir was quite certain that he wasn't expected to actually respond to Kyllae's remark about there being more for her. He was equally certain that she hadn't expected him to take her up on her offer, which probably took some of the generosity out of the gesture, but she had at least followed the form and pretended to generosity. That was something. And so he didn't smile or otherwise acknowledge those words, because when one doesn't smile or make any other sort of facial expression, really, there aren't too many ways to respond to those sorts of conversational sallies.
"It was," Bashir said simply. He wasn't sure whether he should give her credit for catching that or not. He supposed he may as well, so that in the unlikely event he cracked any more jokes in her presence, she would recognize them for what they were.
And then she undid it all by stating that she couldn't clean to save her life. Everyone, apparently, did not know that little fact, because Bashir had no idea. It had never occurred to him that a woman might not be able to clean. He'd been raised with the idea that women belonged in the kitchen or otherwise occupied at domestic chores. Men could pitch in, if they so chose or were directed to do so by a higher authority, but mostly it was a man's role to provide for the women under his protection. Most women were to be protected. Bashir doubted Kyllae would take well to hearing that basic truth of the universe.
Her next question was such an abrupt change of topic that it caught Bashir off-guard and it took him a few moments to construct a response. Even so, it was not the most eloquent of replies: "No, it's all right. I'm from here. I mean, I was born and raised here."
"I don't think it likely that we'll end up in the same wing, even if we're both fortunate enough to Impress. I don't think I'd fit in very well on the queens' wing." He shouldn't have added that last bit, probably. Although it could be construed as complimentary, that he thought she should have a queen, it really wasn't very. It was more of a subtle admonition that women shouldn't ride fighting dragons.
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Princess_Feylin Vice Captain
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Posted: Mon Oct 05, 2009 8:25 pm
Oh boy. Captain Obvious and his oh so fresh sense of humor. Her insults were more entertaining than his joke telling abilities. Hadn't anyone ever told him to lighten up. Probably. But it was obvious that, no matter what he'd been told, he hadn't listened. Because Bashir was as dry as stale toast, with none of the fixings. "You should try smiling more," she commented. "There's so much to be happy about, I don't know how you can stand to be so serious all of the time." Now that was an assumption, as she didn't know whether Bashir was serious ALL of the time, but she'd yet to see anything to suggest he was ever anything but somber, so...she felt confident in her statement. Then again, she was always confident, after all, she was fabulous, she didn't have the time for insecurity.
Kyllae indeed would have pitched a fit if anyone attempted to fit her into the 'woman' stereotype. Kyllae looked at herself as a lady, and a girl, but she was no woman. Not the sewing, cooking, cleaning kind of girl people wanted her to be. No, she was the outdoor, swimming, building, boat-repairing girl from Southern, and she was quite happy with that.
It was amazing how Bashir was able to turn anything remotely interesting into something without flavor or emotion. Born and raised at High Reaches wasn't bad, but...that was it? He couldn't have added anything, like who his parents were, or if he didn't know them, what he thought of it here, or if he'd ever been anywhere else. Or maybe he really was that uninteresting. Kyllae found that unlikely, because after all, look at all the exciting and fun stuff that had happened to her. Surely his life here warranted more than a sentence or two. She decided that he was simply witholding information from her, for some unknown reason.
Oh dear. Kyllae had assumed Bashir was incapable of real humor, she hadn't been expecting that one. She really laughed at that, brown eyes dancing with amusement. "I should think you would look funny on a gold!" She remarked, shaking her head as her laughter faded. She didn't pick up on Bashir's criticism of women on fighting dragons, unable to take the remark as anything but a joke. For surely he wouldn't so openly compliment her either. It had to be a joke. "I'm not expecting to impress the gold, though. After all, there's really a million of us candidates, and only one of her. No, I'd be happy if I could team up with any dragon, regardless of color. Besides, it must be fun to ride a flaming dragon! Queenriders don't get to enjoy that experience. And I should think a flame thrower is hardly a comparison."
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Posted: Tue Oct 06, 2009 12:03 pm
"I'm not serious all the time," Bashir protested.
Because he wasn't. His face just wasn't expressive, and nothing he did seemed to change that. Some people couldn't wiggle their ears. Bashir couldn't make convincing facial expressions. He wasn't going to bring all that up now though. Kyllae probably wouldn't care, or - worse - she would pity him. He didn't see it as something pitiable, but lots of people tended to react that way. It was better not to mention it at all.
"And I don't know how you can be so upbeat all the time," he countered. "I agree there's much to be happy about, but isn't it exhausting?"
It was not, as comebacks went, particularly clever, but it was something he had been wondering and she had opened that topic of conversation. It was one he would be just as happy not discussing, however. He didn't think anything short of telling her that his face simply didn't reflect his thoughts and feelings unless he went to special effort would satisfy her. She seemed to think her way of life was the only one. He would allow that it seemed to work for her, but he was fine with his life. So what if his friends said that a lump of coal shoved up his arse would turn to diamond in a month?
And what had he said that had made her laugh? He'd missed that while he was thinking his own thoughts. Oh. The thought of him on a gold. She had thought he was joking. Strange girl. He hadn't thought he was being that subtle, but maybe it was for the best. He didn't want to make an enemy of her. No one could say how the future would turn out, and maybe she would do well enough on a green. Certainly the Weyr would have some major changes to face if she did Impress the queen in this clutch. The idea of her as Weyrwoman was...he wasn't sure. Things would be different.
"It is fun to ride dragons," Bashir admitted. He'd never practiced any sort of flaming drill with Rath - there were limits to what he could learn on a borrowed dragon, after all - but he'd seen the riders drilling. It was interesting to watch. "It's just very cold."
He saw the laundry room and was relieved. Maybe once they were in there she would find someone else to talk to and he would be spared having to converse with her. But there was also the possibility that she'd decide to continue this conversation. He should have stuck to his original plan and spoken as little as he could get away with.
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Princess_Feylin Vice Captain
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Posted: Tue Oct 06, 2009 4:19 pm
Kyllae didn't like pity. She liked attention, to be sure, but pity wasn't the same. She didn't need to be looked down on, for that's all pity really was, in her mind. She could handle sympathy, but pity was disgusting. She tried not to pity other people either, she would try and be supportive, or lend a shoulder, but pity. Yuck. But seeing as Bashir didn't give her a chance to demonstrate this, opinions on pity were left in the dark.
"It is a lot of work," she admitted, with a shrug. "But I like to think that being happy is like community service. It's infectious, and if my being happy can make at least one other person happy, well then that's pretty awesome, at least, it is to me. And besides, it's a lot better to be happy than sad," she informed. And by sad, she also meant 'too serious', but she left that bit out. Not a good idea to be too abrasive or nasty. If he was making what she assumed to be an effort to tolerate her, than at least she could do the same.
Kyllae's interest jumped, however, when Bashir said that riding a dragon was 'fun'. Did that mean HE'D ridden one? Or maybe more than one? Oh dear, that was terribly unfair, and Kyllae felt a twinge of jealousy, but she would save that for later. Sure, she'd been on a dragon when she transfered Weyrs, and when she was first searched, but that didn't really count. Anyone not from the Weyr'd surely had that, right? Seeing as he hadn't needed to be searched, that could only mean he'd been on a dragon for some sort of recreational flight, right? "Is it at all scary?" she questioned. "I must admit my stomach did a backflip when I was searched. Does it get better over time?"
Oh bother. They were practically at the laundry room not. Not good. Kyllae, a few moments ago, would have happily parted company with Bashir. But now that they were on a topic that she was honestly interested in...well, she couldn't let him go that easily, now could she? She waved to the head laundress, to make sure the woman knew she was back, but stayed relatively close to Bashir, so that he wouldn't slip off out of sight. "Where're you working? I'll come keep you company!" she declared, rocking back and forth on her heels. Parasitic and hard to dispose of, she was, and didn't intend to let go of Bashir easily.
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Posted: Tue Oct 06, 2009 8:13 pm
A community service. That was one way to think of it. The atmosphere was more pleasant with someone around to break up tension and bad moods, but Bashir preferred to do that by being dependable and stable while everyone else was going off the handle. He wasn't sure he'd call his methods a community service, though. But it did explain a lot about Kyllae, that attitude. He wasn't sure how he ought to reply to her statement, but he felt it did warrant some sort of reply, so he settled for a wry, "Well, thank you."
Dragons. He was more comfortable talking about them, but it looked like he wouldn't have to. For about thirty seconds, and then Kyllae decided to make like a burr. He could understand her interest. Very few candidates had his experience with dragons. He'd always considered himself fortunate in that respect, no matter how much pressure everyone said his family put on him. If that was the trade for being allowed to work with Rath every day and hear a dragon's voice in his mind, he would take it. Even if he never Impressed - skies forbid. Still. If he couldn't shake Kyllae without being rude, he wouldn't.
"I think I'm working with the wringer. Shorter hair's less likely to get caught and all that." He glanced at the head laundress to make sure he was correct and she nodded. "Yes. The wringer."
As he made his way over, he answered Kyllae's questions about flying. If he answered her as comprehensively as possible, maybe she would be satisfied. "It can be scary. Rath, my grandfather's dragon, is about as dependable as they come, but sometimes he forgets that I'm not my grandfather and I can't actually read his thoughts unless he lets me. So there're sometimes unexpected maneuvers, or times when he pretends he can't hear my directions, which produces more unexpected results."
"How were you Searched?" he asked as he picked up the first piece of clothing. He was always interested in others' Searching stories. He'd never been Searched, after all.
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Princess_Feylin Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Oct 07, 2009 1:46 pm
Aw, a thank you? Kyllae hadn't been expecting that. Then again, it was probably more for the formality than anything else, as Bashir didn't seem like he really was at all grateful for her cheer. At least he was polite, and that was better than nothing.
Wringing? Kyllae could do that. She reached into her pocket and withdrew a length of deep blue ribbon, which she used to tie up her hair in a practiced movement. Her hair was getting a little long, she noticed, and made herself a mental note to get it cut after the hatching, whether she impressed or not.
Ooh, so that explained it! His grandfather's dragon? Why not his fathers dragon? Did his father not impress, or was there something else? Kyllae had a feeling there was more to be discovered, but was content to take it at face value for now. She wasn't in the mood for prying and being nosy, not now, anyway. "That sounds exciting," she mused. Thank Faranth that Bashir wasn't one of those super manly guys, and that he could admit flying was sometimes a bit scary. It made her feel a bit better as well. If even someone with a lot more practice found it a little scary sometimes, then it was only reasonable she be scared on the scant few occasions she'd flown.
"Well, I came from Southern originally. Small cothold by the beach, surrounded by jungle, you get the idea. Anyway, my two sisters were searched, but I wasn't, so instead I started on as an apprentice of Seacraft, because that was a big part of my family's livelihood. The sea provides for you and all of that, and besides, I felt it was all a great deal of fun. Anyway, to further my education, I wanted to go abroad a little and see what I could learn. I just happened to be searched at Ista, and after some time there, I transfered here," she didn't feel it was necessary to describe the situation under which she'd come here. That...wasn't something she wanted to share with anyone, really. Those wounds were still far too fresh to be acknowledged, and Kyllae knew they would be long while yet in healing...best just leave it alone.
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Posted: Thu Oct 08, 2009 4:54 pm
Bashir watched out of the corner of his eyes as Kyllae pulled her hair back with a blue ribbon that she'd produced from somewhere. He was grateful, and not for the first time, that his hair wasn't long enough to need pulled back. It would have to be cut soon, though. The longer style he wore at present was making his grandfather furious, even though it kept his hair from curling as furiously as it was ordinarily wont to do when short. When it was absolutely imperative that he keep his hair out of his face he had a headband he'd woven for himself - the first and last attempt he ever made at weaving. A'ram had been disparaging of his effort, and he'd been young enough to be put off the activity forever at that.
"It is. Exciting, I mean," Bashir answered, turning the crank to wring out the piece of laundry he'd just fed into it. "If you'll feed the clothing in, I can turn the press. Unless you'd rather do it the other way?" He didn't really have any preferences. It just seemed that turning the crank required more strength, and it was more practical for him to do it.
He listened attentively as Kyllae spoke about her origins in Southern. In fact, having been raised in High Reaches Weyr, he had no idea what it would be like to live near the beach, surrounded by jungle. Nor was he aware of "all of that" as it applied to the sea providing for you. He was weyrbred. The holds provided for you in his situation.
"Don't you find the colder climate difficult to adjust to? My grandfather came from Igen, and he says the cold seeps into his bones and makes his life a misery." Bashir didn't mention that his grandfather was also sixty four and his joints would probably be miserable for him even if he lived in Ista.
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Princess_Feylin Vice Captain
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