[PRP]Opposites Attract...The Same Chore Assignment[Zel/Phry]

[ShinosBee]

Laundry was not as exciting as helping riders care for their dragons, nor as emotionally taxing as assisting the healers tend to the sick and wounded. It was not as smelly as latrine or stable duty, nor as relaxing as changing glows. But it was necessary, and it was at least nicely scented. At least, it was where Zelaya had been posted, in a vast room full of steamy, scented tubs of water, using a long hooked rod to fish tunics and trousers and towels and socks from the sudsy baths to drape over lines. And with a pair of thick wherhide gloves, there was no worries about damage to the hands at a task like this. All in all that made it fairly easy, and almost enjoyable...aside from the heat.

Then again, it was high summer in High Reaches, and even out on some ledge it'd still be uncomfortably hot. Here was steamy but...well. The job needed doing.

A number of other candidates had been assigned the chore too, though they didn't speak much. This chore, unlike some of those on the roster, needed no special instructions. Laundry was laundry, no matter what Weyr, Hold, or Hall you lived in. Any candidate had been alive long enough to have tried their hand at it in some form or other, and there were rarely surprises. At least, in terms of the clothing.

A new candidate, however, that was a surprise. They'd been trickling in more and more since Fianth's flight, the prospect of two clutches on the sand having sent the Weyr's searchdragons into overdrive. Zelaya didn't pause when the (tall!) woman was led in and instructed to join the workers, but she did sidle over just a bit, making room at her tub for the newcomer. Wordlessly she offered up the long hook when Phryana came near—she knew where the spares were hung, after all, and could fetch herself another one in a breath. She didn't say anything, but she offered a small smile. With how steam-filled the room was though, it might be hard to see. She widened the expression a beat later, though it still came off rather demure.

Tsunake

I figured in the steamy room, Phry's scars might not be instantly visible, or not fully. Not that Zelaya would judge her for them.

 

[Tsunake]

Laundry was not an unfamiliar task, though Phryana had normally been responsible for washing only her own clothes. One would not even hear a peep of protest or complaint from the former brothel worker, and she absently tucked any stray hair behind her ears to keep out of the way. New candidates were pouring in day by day due to the prospect of two clutches being on the sands, but Phryana was hardly worried. In truth, she cared little about Impressing a dragon. She was not a child daydreaming of some all-important companion to save her from her miseries.... though, admittedly, she would have desired nothing more than to fly away from her life when she had been younger.

Her dark eyes lifted unhurriedly to examine the young woman across from her, noting the young features and those pale eyes. Despite the smile was noted, and how it widened after a beat. After only a moment, she reached out to accept the hook, offering a slow, if sweet smile in turn. Far be it from her to turn away any potential ally at this point in time.

"Thank you," She pitched her voice to be audible, if still low. Though her time at the Weyr may be limited to a Turn or two, there was no need to be anything less than gracious in the meantime. Especially if.... well. Assumptions were almost as foolish as blind stabs in the dark, so Phyrana would not think to try and pin an identity upon the girl just yet.

ShinosBee

 

[ShinosBee]

"Of course," Zelaya replied, her tone automatically matching the woman's, loud enough to be heard, but no more...and soft, almost delicate to match her features. With a second, quick, smile she ducked away, weaving through the steamy room to where the rows of hooks hung in faintly glistening lines, like strange, uniform trees of a slender and branchless nature. With two hands she freed one from the rack, and tucked it into her arms as tenderly as if it was a child before heading back to her spot—it wouldn't do to accidentally snag someone else's clothes, or hand, or hair with it as she walked about, after all!

She was oblivious to the quiet inspection the new candidate woman was passing over her as she leaned forward, deftly snagging one of the lumpy blobs of fabric that'd been drifting in the steaming pools long enough. It sloshed through the water towards the edge, and with a twist she used the hook to lift it out, holding it up long enough to let a good amount of water run back into the pool before she crossed with the tunic (the shape of it having become clearer once out of the water) towards the swaying walls of cloth, of clothing draped over long, thick ropes that hung through the cavern in yards. Up she raised it, then fumbled, and on a second attempt managed to swing the tunic over the line, though several droplets flecked across her arms in the process.

And then she was back at the pool, deftly pushing this bit of cloth away to further soak, and then using the hook to unwind that bunched bit that needed more even cleaning. For her the silence of the work was companionable, peaceful and meditative, and the little smile she'd adopted remained in place as she worked, pleased as a summer breeze...though she really probably should introduce herself. "I'm Zelaya," She finally ventured. "You're a new candidate, right?"

Tsunake