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 Posted: Wed Feb 24, 2010 7:00 pm
There were better things to do than candidate chores; Fellendar was certain this was one of those little realized world truths. Feeling particularly enlightened today, the black-haired teenager rolled out of bed sometime before the Candidatemaster showed up and found himself a nice hidey-hole in the dining hall. Having average features paid off every now and then; blending into the crowd was easy. The crowd ebbed, eventually, as people wandered off to their respective jobs, but Fell stayed behind, nursing a lukewarm cup of klah and a wicked smile. Shirking work was an art form, it truly was. The shame behind it all was there was no one to appreciate it.
At some point, the kitchen drudges began to give him dirty looks. The former Harper decided that was his queue to leave. Sweeping to his feet (and mug in hand, kitchen property or not), Fellendar strolled out of the dining hall and took a turn down a corridor. His destination was anywhere he wasn't supposed to be. A few left turns, a right one here or there, and the candidate would surely find something interesting, right? Plucking an old tune from memory, the youth strolled around another corner and began to sing. Today was going to be a wonderful day!
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Posted: Thu Feb 25, 2010 9:42 pm
It really was harder, reflected Iden as he slunk around the edge of a building, red head down and blue eyes trying to look everywhere at once as he chewed on the last of the breakfast he'd snatched and run off with as fast as possible before anyone noticed he was there, to avoid people when you were tall. And his red hair was damnably distinctive, like he had a torch proclaiming to everyone, "hello there! I am in fact present, give me extra work!"
Which was why he'd often enough considered persuading a Weaver to try and dye it like cloth, not that he expected it to stick. But no matter what color it came out, it sure would be a good story, wouldn't it? The thought of it had a grin on his lips. Hm. Good idea, or very good idea? Definitely.
Still, deep in thought as he was about the merits of having his hair dyed, Iden looked up instinctively at the sound of singing -- not a very familiar voice, but a pleasant one nonetheless. He grinned a bit, taking one hand out from where he had stuffed it in his pocket to toss a greeting the other's way. "Oi," called Iden, his voice warm and upbeat, "shouldn't you be doing chores?" He grinned unrepentantly, head canted cheerily to one side. "Not that I can really say anything, eh?"
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Posted: Fri Feb 26, 2010 4:42 pm
"I was about to say, sir, are you one to talk?" Fellendar hollered back, breaking from his tune as a fellow candidate greeted him. Feeling no immediate danger of being turned it (after all, if this boy was actually doing something he was supposed to be doing, he'd have turned in Fell by now, so either he wasn't that kind of kid, or he was one of Fell's own heart, and the former Harper was banking on the later). Lifting up his mug of chilly klah, he grinned. "Fine day, isn't it? Far too good to be wasting working ourselves senseless. Life's too short not to enjoy."
That said, the older candidate approached the younger male, pushing his black bangs out of his face as he inclined his head. A slow, syrupy smile slid across his features, eventually ending up lopsided and lazy. Stopping next to the tall stranger, he glanced up. "So. What are you avoiding?" The youth extended a hand. "The name's Fellendar, by the way. And you are?" There was no need to offer his station; candidates seemed to know each other instinctively. Maybe they could smell each other suffering, like a wounded animal.
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