All references to worlds and characters based on Anne McCaffrey's fiction are copyright © Anne McCaffrey 1967,2000, all rights reserved, and used by permission of the author. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is registered U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, by Anne McCaffrey, used here with permission. Use or reproduction without a license is strictly prohibited. For more information, visit the Worlds of Anne McCaffrey.

09-05-01: Purple
Hanneke, with an exageratedly careful step, bears a tray of foodstuffs from the kitchen, under the careful scrutiny of a...

Hanneke, with an exageratedly careful step, bears a tray of foodstuffs from the kitchen, under the careful scrutiny of a drudge who stands in the doorway. The tray is set down with a notable grace, the candidate turning to beam proudly towards the drudge, who disappears with silent finesse. The smallest achievements are perhaps the greatest.

Zureile, at first too busy to notice the entrance of her friend, scrubs diligently away at the floor of the cavern. On her hands and knees, rump sticking up in the air and wiggling slightly with the force of her scrubs, Zureile presents quite a picture. By Faranth, how could it get so dirty in only one day? Taking a breather, she leans back on her heels,and wipes a dripping hand across her equally wet forehead. "Oh, hi Hanneke. I didn't see you come in. Kitchen duty, eh?"

Hanneke's delight over her success is tempered by the sight of Zureile's wiggling rear, and for a moment, she even manages to look contrite. "You have to scrub the *floors*?" comes from her lips, as if by way of greeting, as she weaves between tables to move towards her friend. "Kitchen duty, yes--" a glance is made towards the kitchens. "Although they don't seem to like me much in there."

"Oh, not just the floors, Hanneke. I get the priveledge of scrubbing all of this," she waves her hand expressively around the Living Caverns and all it's tables, "The Lower Caverns, and even the Candidates Barracks." Zureile wrinkles her nose and makes a face, shaking the rag in her hand accusatorily. "Speaking of which, someone has been tracking in dirt.. lots of dirt into the Barracks, and I aim to find out who they are. I don't spend all my time cleaining that room just to have someone mess it up through negligence." Zureile's hands drift down to plant themselves on her hips, making her look all the more like a scolding housewife... or is that cotholdwife?

Positively aghast at the amount of cleaning necessary, Hanneke backs up into the nearest table, collapsing into a seat with a flurry of tunic that is rapidly smoothed out again. "Oh! How *boring*!" Her nose wrinkles in sympathy, although smiles are as brilliant as ever--"No, I guess not."

Shaking some of the sand from the bowl off his boots, though not getting it all by no means,Dalas comes into the living cavern. He makes his way straight for the sideboard and pours some redfruit juice into a mug, seeing his fellow candidates he walks over with a smile,"Hey all how goes it?" He ask as he goes to see whats going on."

With lots of huffing and puffing, Larli, trundles up from the lower caverns, dragging a large sack. Narrow, beedy brown eyes scan the cavern, looking for tell tale white knots. "You!" she finally settles upon Dalas, "You don't look busy enough." She tugs the huge sack and flops it at his feet. "Sort these. They found them in the caverns and we need to see if anything is worth mending and repairing." Waddling back towards the caverns, she pauses and glances over her shoulder. "Get help if you need it. Adria will be coming for them in a few hours."

Hanneke is, for the moment, completely ignored as Zureile turns appraising eyes to Dalas' boots. Was he the one? Nevermind..she'd find out. Leaning out a hand, she stands up and knocks over the bucket in the process. Urgh. Sighing, she mops up what she can, then dissappears briefly to fill it up again.

"I," begins Hanneke towards Dalas, beaming with her success, although with moderation as Zureile's plight is no doubt obsessed over, if her expression is any indication. "Carried a whole big tray, and didn't drop it! Hihi, how are you?"

Kyla enters from the Weyr's bowl, outside.

Dalas smiling says,"I'm doing good but Larli just deposited this huge sack of clothing she wants mended and sorted, but I have infirmary duty, or did." He tells Hanneke with a sigh,"She also said to get some help with it and as you don't seem to be doing anything maybe you can help sort this sack out, we can put mendables in one stack and hopelessly ruined in another stack, and then those that don't need anything but washing we can put in another stack." Looking at Hanneke not sure if she is going to help with it.

Hanneke had noticed Larli, certainly, and overheard--although it's only now that Dalas prompts her that she responds, "Oh, I'd love to! Mother says that it's important for everyone to know how to do that kind of thing, so I do, and I can help." With some visible pride, the young candidate shifts from her seat, moving towards Dalas.

Kyla wanders into the cavern, not even the ghost of a smile on her face. If she were in boots, she'd be stomping, but her sandals just make a lame 'pat pat'. No greetings are tossed out as the greenrider heads to the sidebar, collecting a bit of mango and redfruit juice.

Mendable, ruined, needs washing, so begins the task. Upon hearing someone patter in Dalas looks up seeing Kyla. He knows whats got her dander up or at least part of it."Yeah I guess its important to know how to sort laundry." Dalas tells Hanneke looking over towards the sidebar,"Its also important to know whats worthy of keeping and what you can just throw away."Remembering his talk with Dominic he wonders if he shouldn't talk to Kyla,"I mean just because something changes or gets changed doesn't mean its lost its usefulness."

With enthusiasm, Hanneke greets, her head having raised from it's task long enough to note the greenrider, "Hihi, Greenrider!" Name, should she have known it previously, has escaped the shallow confines of her memory. Greeting made, enthusiasm shown, she gathers up a garment to peer at it with obvious intensity. "Hopeless," is her eventual conclusion, made with a nod, as the garment is placed in the appropriate pile. "Exactly!" she agrees, via Dalas.

Kyla pauses, juice halfway to her lips, before she spits "Kyla" at Hanneke. Juice and fruit are taken over to the Phoenix table, where hopefully she can get some respite. Ha. T'mmy, the bluerider friend of B'nhead, leans over and winks at her, "Hear you are free.." No words are deigned as a response, instead he gets a baleful glare, before she scoots further down the bench, away from him.

Hanneke has the grace to blush, and does so, repeating, "Hihi Kyla, then!" after the greenrider, her attention wavering between that subject, and the very important sorting that occupies much of mental capacity. Another garment is taken, inspected at length, and placed down with a doleful grin, "Holes, everywhere! That's just horrible, don't you think, that someone could treat a nice shirt like that!"

Kyla glances over at the shirt under inspection and comments dryly. "Purple's never been /my/ favorite."

Hanneke's expression shows horror--"Oh, but purple is just...well, it's *purple*." Surely that's reason enough. "Lovely!" The shirt, holes and all, is held up again, her fingers smoothing over the fabric.

Kyla nibbles on her mango, listening to Hanneke sing praise to purple. "It's purple is the problem." She reaffirms, "What else does purple go with? Yellow? Ick.. Brown? Never..Blue? Then you look like a blueberry.." Decisive bite of fruit is taken before she sums up, "Purple is icky.", except it comes out more like .."uuuuuurplle ish ickkkkky."

Dalas looks at Kyla and frowns, should he say something to her, he ventures to do so,"Hello Kyla, I heard that you and Dominic had a bit of a falling out." He pauses a moment,"I think you should reconsider your opinion on the circumstances a little."Trepidation sets in wondering if and hoping he is doing the right thing," I mean just because he got searched isn't really a reason to give him the boot, I mean sure you won't be able to be intimate with him but...."Hearing the comments about the color he wonders if it may be a reflection on him, his colors are purple and white after all.

"White!" declares Hanneke triumphantly, "Or certain shades of red." Beamingly, she adds, "Purple isn't icky, it's just misunderstood. I really think that people ought to think more about the poor feelings of the purple, which is just a horrible thing, really, when you think about it. Why, Julen refused to wear purple pants, and I bet they would've been cu--" She trails off to a halt, finally appearing to register Dalas' comments towards Kyla, her own mouth shutting.

Um, I wouldn't want to be Dalas, as Kyla's gaze comes to rest on him. "I'm quite sure you have no idea what you are talking about." she manages in a chilled tone. "Nor do I care to discuss what you /think/ about my personal life here in the living caverns." And with that he's dismissed without a word. T'mmy chuckles dryly at Dalas's words and the green rider response. Then much to his chagrin, he gets a mango whipped at him for his troubles. Purple, much better topic of conversation. "Had to wear my knot for ages with purple, I swear it clashed with everything." Red hair and purple just don't go.

Zureile tramps back into the Living Cavern, grubby face shining with a huge grin. "Hi Hanneke and Dalas." Kyla is ignored. "I found some other wretched candidate to finish up the scrubbing. Life can be good at the weyr, after all." She eases herself down at a table, leaning back against it on her elbows. She continues to dutifully ignore Kyla, though the presence of flying fruit makes it increasingly diffiuclt to do so. "What are you doing? Do you need some help?" The offer is made, but the tone of her voice gives evidence to her obvious reluctance. Sitting at the table and watching them work would be more than fine by her.

Hanneke pauses within her folding--another garment is set aside for the 'needs washing' pile, aparently gazing up and down Kyla, to reward the greenrider with a nod. "Pink would be worse!" she declares brightly, a cheerful bounce carrying her back to the bag of clothing, which she digs into once more. "We're sorting mending stuff!" comes her trilled comment towards Zureile, "Come help!"

Dalas gives a shrug,"Suit yourself Kyla, though I think your making a major mistake," He tells her,"I mean Dominic is a good fellow, better than some you could get stuck with."Looking over at T'mmy who seems to have just missed the mango, least now there isn't so much to throw at Dalas."To think I thought that your character was deeper than that, I mean not so shallow that something like that could come between real love, though maybe it wasn't real love to start with."

Zureile makes a small face, then goes to kneel beside Hanneke. Funny, it seems that she's spending more and more time in that position. "So, how are we sorting this? I mean, is there some order?" She holds up a wrinkled, mussed tunic between two fingers. "This.. where would this go?" She shifts a quick glance over to Dalas, unsure whether to root for him or for Kyla. Kyla wasn't exactly a friend, but if she was making Dominic's life miserable.... She turns her attention back to Hanneke.

Kyla looks at Dalas as if cold water had been flung on her, mouth slightly open and her respiration speeding up slightly. Juice glass is pushed away from her as she stands, bench shoved so violently backwards it falls with a crash. "And how is A'ria, Dalas?" she whips at him, venom in her voice. "What's it like coming second to a dragon? At least Niabeth chose Dominic for me." A little pause for effect, "Isn't it nice when people comment on your life?" And with that she steps over the bench and strides out of the cavern.

Kyla walks out of the Living Caverns into the bowl.

Evidently, Dalas is looking for trouble. Equally evidently, Hanneke is not. Perfectly occupied with her sorting, all three piles grow in height as she, evidently delighted by such a riveting task, works through the bag. "Three piles," she explains to Zureile, "One for mendables, one for, er, hopeless things, and one for things that need washing." She indicates the washing pile, "That one, I think!" She pauses, glancing after Kyla. "Oops!"

Dalas sits there with his mouth slightly agape as he watches Kyla leave,"Er...ahem..." Not knowing what to say to that and not having ample time to respond,"Well guess I deserved that..." He looks down into the basket his face slightly flushed.Not likeing the fact that Kyla hit his situation right on the head."Well that seems to have been a mistake." He tells everyone and no one in particular, he does catch the grin on T'mmy's face as he gets up and persues Kyla.

Zureile, having firmly decided that the affair is none of her business, quickly becomes engrossed in the clothes. "Okay.. let's see.... torn pants in the mendables, torn shirt follows it to the pile... greasy shirt for the washing.... Whoa, disgusting. Definitely hopeless." Zureile's hands are busily picking at the articles of clothing, flinging them this way and that. She does manage to break cadance as she watches Dalas momentarily, trying to understand his involvement. Oh, well. Shrug. She has plenty of problems of her own without stepping into that tunnelsnake pit. "Torn... washing... washing.. hopeless.... Oops. Sorry Hanneke." Eyes down, she misses the pile of hopless articles, and instead flings a rather wretched pair of crusty pants in Hanneke's direction.

Hanneke repeats, with some emphasis upon the word, "Oops!" Lips twitching with their bountiful smile, she returns her attention to the more important of tasks, drawing a ragged pair of knickers from the pile. "Ew!" she yelps, with obvious disgust. "That's disgusting!" The knickers are dropped, rapidly, just in time for Zureile's crusty pants to come flying across, and get her across the face. The combined efforts, perhaps understandably, are enough to send her galloping across the caverns. "Gross!"

You head into the Living Quarters.