Osasune makes her way back into the barracks, bearing a couple of freshly laundered pillowcases in her hands. She heads toward her cot, where her denuded pillow rests. Fickle is perched on her shoulder, clinging there and just finishing chewing on something.
Eonwar argues quietly with the boys on the other side of the 'fence', his voice raising every now and then to lift up over the nose of those gathered in his little 'group'. "Look, I don't care /what/ you say, you're not getting me in trouble. Unlike you wherryheads, I have to live here iffen I don't impress."
Ilesyn is not really all that common a presence in the barracks - and she still doesn't wear a candidate's knot. Currently, however, she is perched upon her cot, listening with great interest to the argument engaged across the other side of the room, her notebook and stylus in hand. Osa is given a brief glance, and half a smile, though she's distracted.
"Hey," Gretta says, as she enters shortly after Osasune, "does anyone know how to get rid of this?" This, meaning the wrinkles on her fingers, which she holds out in front of her for anyone to exam. "I had to wash dishes /all/ day." The extra frizz of her hair and the sweat on her brow are the obvious signs of one who's been in the kitchens.
Kadan is busy with Osasune's bed, having just inserted something slimy between her sheets. Giving dirty hands a quick clean on the corner of her quilt, he steps back with satisfaction, a quick glance an attempt to check whether he's been spotted. He's busy moving a little way away, still regarding his handiwork with satisfaction, when he spots Osa. As he divines where exactly she's heading, his brown creases to a frown.
Osasune smiles at Ilesyn as she bustles by, heading toward her cot. "They'll dry out, I think," she says to Gretta. She slows as she notices Kadan by her cot, swallowing thickly.
Thump, thump, thump. The argument abruptly cuts off as Eonwar says his last and stomps off to the end of the divide, swinging around the edge to peer at the girls. "What're you doing in here, huh? Plotting I bet."
"Being vastly interested in you and your little argument," explains Ilesyn, with a smile rather too many watts for comfort - her smiles are rarely warm. Kadan's movements have also drawn her interest, one eye shifting over after him with a shake of his head. "Don't trust him, Osa. Be very careful."
Kadan is frozen into a mask of horror, head turning as he makes the connection between Osa and her bed. "Ah, Osa, I've been thinking. You don't want to sleep here. This one squeaks. It was making noise last night when you turned over. That must be very disruptive for you. What about..." A wild cast about proves unfruitful, the boy unable to locate a free bed. "Well, what about somewhere else? You'll be much more rested." Another boy, similar in size and stature to Kadan - that is, runty - is watching with interest. "I thought you said this was the snoring guy's bed..." This last is hissed to Kadan's companion, with an agonised expression.
"Is that what you're writing about?" Gretta wonders, drawing closer to Ilesyn with a curious glance to her notebook. For a moment, she peers towards Kadan, then Osasune, a smile beginning to twitch at her lips.
Osasune's fingers curl up; she glances between Kadan and the runt, and blinks. "You did something horrid to my bed, but it wasn't intended /for me/?" She smiles a broad, happy smile, and edges over. "What is it, what is it?"
Eonwar's eyes roll slightly as he watches Kadan for a moment, not at all surprised to see Jameson in on whatever's going on. At least he has nothing to do with it, not involved in any way. "Not that that's any of your business," he replies to Ilesyn as he leans his shoulder hard against the divider and continues to watch the interaction 'tween Osa and Kadan.
Ilesyn's smile curves wider still, a sweet smile expressed for Eonwar's benefit. "Everything, my dear candidate, is my business. It's my job - and my purpose for being here." Another few notes are scribbled down upon her notebook; her handwriting is no different from that of most healers - practically illegible. "Partly," she agrees, her head turning towards Gretta. "I write about everything. Field notes." To Osa, she says nothing more, though her expression is - almost - incredulous.
Kadan seems momentarily surprised that Osa's not angry about the sacrifice of her sheets, but her grin is met with an answering one, and he whips back her sheets with enthusiasm, to reveal a soggy, brown mess. "Oh, you know that half a pickled tunnelsnake I put in the stew? The one the cook chased me with the frying pan for? Well, I only used half, so I've got half here. I thought it might keep that horrible snorer awake long enough for me to get to sleep tonight, if he had to change his sheets over. I mean, shards, it's like having a green dragon shrieking a challenge in here some nights." Ilesyn is watched over his shoulder with some trepidation, but he's learning that despite her disapproval, she doesn't come down upon him like the hand of god. She just makes another note.
"Oh! How rotten is it!" Osa's enthusiasm for not being the one intentionall pranked fades as she lifts one corner of her blanket.
Gretta considers Ilesyn with upraised eyebrows and a slight, slight smile. "You're studying -- us? The candidates?" Her hand flaps towards Kadan, for instance, but swings to include Osasune, Eonwar. "Even if you're one, too?" Then, wrinkling her nose towards Osasune, she wonders aloud, "Surely you can't leave that in here for long? -- it'll stink up everything."
Tarrant strides in on the odd smell, having just finished his dinner. A small wrinkle of his nose, and the odor brings a thought - which makes the ex-hunter gaze steadily in the direstion of Kadan and Eonwar. "Gah, that's bad!" he murmurs. A nod towards Gretta. "I hope the stink's gone rather soon."
Eonwar does not allow himself to respond to the chillingly /odd/ expression that has overtaken Ilesyn's features, and in fact he doesn't spend much time looking at her for that matter. "I'm not your dear anything and you're no better than the rest of us, /candidate/." Rolling his eyes, he pushes off from the divider and glances toward the exit, pondering leaving, no doubt, but the matter of Jameson, Kadan and Osasune is more interesting just now.
"Of course. You. The candidates. And when you all Impress, I'll be studying you still. I'm going to be living in the Weyrlingmaster's Weyr." Ilesyn pauses for a split-second, adding, "Although not /with/ the Weyrlingmaster, mind. That would be too disgusting even for me. Besides which, Eonwar, candidate or not, it's just a pretence. I'm not going to be the one Impressing - I'm still a Journeywoman. Kadan, sweetie," she continues, calling across to the young boy, "This isn't good for your development. You need to take a step back, and think about what kind of man you want to grow into. A swindler, or someone that people will like? I could help you." When he ignores her on his way out, her eyes are narrowed, though she says nothing more.
Osasune sighs, setting her fresh pillowcases aside and then beginning to strip her cot of gore-stained blankets and sheets. Fickle chirps at all the bobbing and flits off to find a perch that moves less. "Why would you live with C'daer?"
Gretta points out to Osasune, almost sadly, "Looks like you're going to have to clean up your own bed, since he just left. Maybe Jameson will help you?" That latter part's brightly suggested, as she turns to flash a quick smile to her fellow candidate before moving past him. "And -- who's to say you /won't/ Impress? I don't think a dragon really cares if you /are/ a Journeywoman."
Tarrant watches Kadan leave with the gross, stinky thing, and sighs in relief. "That was quick," he murmurs, a slight grin on his face. "Hi, everyone. Nice to see you around, too, Ilesyn."
"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure of that, Ilesyn," Eonwar has to state, however grudingly. It's a distateful thought, but, "Even for someone like you, there could be a dragon to fit." Shudder. Ilesyn ... on a dragon. Shudder. "Oh? Using your... er, body, to your advantage? Funny, C'daer didn't strike me as the type," he continues on in suggestive tones, even though that's even more... revolting.
Ilesyn's smile doesn't waver - not even for a moment. "I won't," she promises. "I'm not dragonrider material. There's nothing about me that would entice a dragon-- as I said, I'm only here to prove that I'm not insane, and pick up information for my research paper." Tarrant earns merely a shrug, and half a nod, as she repositions her legs upon the cot. "I'm /not/ going to live with C'daer. I'm going to live in the Weyrlingmaster's Weyr, so that I'm always there - as a helper around the barracks, and a researcher, taking notes clinically. Ew. I am /not/ going to sleep with C'daer."
"I didn't mean sleep with, but he is the Weyrlingmaster and his Weyr would be, um, the Weyrlingmaster's Weyr. Right?" Osa inquires. Jameson grudgingly takes the wadded up blankets and sheets and trots toward the exit. Generous? Perhaps. But Renbekrah is going to laundry duty. Hmn.
Avila ambles in from the eastern caverns.
Tilimania ambles in from the eastern caverns.
"Oh, I see, then!" Gretta whirls around to face Ilesyn, pointing a finger. "You must have /asked/ to be a candidate so you could study us. In this case, the dragons didn't choose you. Right?" Folding her arms over her chest, she gives a teasing grin -- though she doubts Ilesyn's the teasing kind -- then nods a greeting to the hunter. "Hey, Tarrant."
"If a dragon searched you, then Faranth help us, there's something in you, just as there is in the rest of us, that's appealing to dragons," Eonwar persists. "Whether or not you want to be one, doesn't matter, apparently." Just look at him, he has no particular desire, but that doesn't mean he will not impress.
Avila stands at the entrance of the barracks, feeling slightly nostalgic. "Here it is. The Candidate barracks. I spent long days and nights in here, sore and tired from chores." Avila looks even mistyeyed. "Everyone, this is the newest candidate - Tilimania! Be as wonderful to her as *sniff* all my fellow candidates were to me." Avila obviously has a short memory. "That was my bunk..." she points, right where Osasune is. And over there... that was Palia's. And I'lani's was there, L'gan's..." Avila continues down memory lane before giving Tilimania a sweet little smile. "Have fun, dear. And good luck!" And then she's back to her own weyr.
Osasune glances down at her bunk. "This was Avila's!" A pause. "It got snake guts on it!"
Tarrant snickers slightly at the mentiones of bedding C'daer. "I think poor Ilesyn would be the most horrified person if she /did/ somehow wind up Impressing - right Mindhealer?" A fey grin to the Journeywoman before he responds to Gretta. "How are you, Gretta?"
Puppy on a string is tucked under her arm, still, Tilly peeks into the caverns and at the other candidates before she moves in to look at everyone. "Umm. Hi." She waves with one free hand and then switches the canine onto her other hip. "Thanks! Bye!" She waves goodbye to Avila, a bit late.
Tarrant snickers slightly at the mentiones of bedding C'daer. "I think poor Ilesyn would be the most horrified person if she /did/ somehow wind up Impressing - right Mindhealer?" A fey grin to the Journeywoman before he responds to Gretta. "How are you, Gretta?" (repose for Gretta)
"Better grab a bunk while you can," Eonwar advises Tilimania as he shoves off again and turns, sauntering off a few feet on the boy's side, just so he doesn't have to look at Ilesyn. "Yeah, just think, someone would be in /her/ mind all... day... long... for the rest of her LIFE."
"No, no," says Ilesyn, lazily. "He's not moving into the official Weyrlingmaster's Weyr - he's staying up in his, with Miake. So I'll have it to myself." Gretta's question gets a pause. "Well. Sort of," she agrees, eventually, lying with an almost fluid and realistic effect. "No. Dragons don't like me, Eonwar. Please -- save your words, because I have no desire to Impress, and no intention to, and I'd rather that not be jinxed. Do you really want /me/ responsible for keeping you safe? Exactly Tarrant." Tilimania is given a glance, and half a smile. More notes are written down. "Eonwar, you're not satisfied with yourself, are you? You have a desire that you cannot repress to try and hurt others to make yourself feel better. I'll agree that I'm a good subject, being unlikely to take anything that is said to me to heart, but I do wish you would talk to me about your insecurity, rather than take it out on me."
Eonwar's only answer is, "I do believe that's the first time I've ever seen you so far off your mark." No reaction.
"Hope your pup doesn't fight with Kyer's," says Gretta, by way of greeting to Tilimania. Though there's a quick smile, as she nods to the newcomer, followed by a murmured 'Gretta' while she swings on past her to get to Osasune. As she walks, she throws over her shoulder a reply to Tarrant: "Tired. And a bit pruny. I washed dishes all day." A pause, and she surveys Osasune's work, stopping beside her. "Do you need new sheets?"
"There's no need to be mean," Osasune sighs, looking over at Eonwar. She smiles at Tilimania, about to say something, when Gretta asks about her sheets. "Ooh, yes. I do, actually. I'll get them in a bit."
"I think your right." And so Tilimania hunts down what looks to be an empty buck far enough away from the entrance for comfort. "Anybody take this one?" She points to the bunk and looks around just in time to catch Ilesyn's half smile but nothing she says sinks in and Tilly looks confused but shrugs it off. "Have to get my stuff." Puppy wiggles. "That does not include you." Pause. "But he's not really.. I guess I might as well adopt him. I don't know. I'll have to talk to Kye about it."
Ilesyn shakes her head, a mild smile falling into place about her face. "No, you're just deluding yourself, I'm afraid, Eonwar. You do not want to believe it, so you will deny it to yourself - and deny it to everyone else, as well." The mindhealer draws herself to her feet. "I've had enough of you people today. I'm going to go to my room. I'm sure I'll see you later."
Tarrant grins fetchingly at the retreating Ilesyn. "I didn't even have to complain about anything in order to get you to leave." An obvious wink of humor is given to the Journeyman. "Welcome to the barracks of doom, Tilly. Should I congratulate or bemoan your fate?" A half-grin for the new candi alters to a full one for the new puppy.
Osasune waves a little. "Um. See you later, Ilesyn."
Ilesyn nods, just once, and disappears. Her luxury - having her own room - hasn't yet been taken away. Gloat.
Posted by Louise at January 29, 2003 04:45 PM