====September 13, 2013
==== Yulena, Kultir, Maosa Cameo
==== After being installed in the Barracks, Yulena tries to encourage embracing of the Candi ways. Kultir? Not so believing.

Who Yulena, Kultir, Maosa Cameo
What Yulena and Kultir meet and chat in the Candidate Barracks. Maosa… arrives?
When One Turn, two months, and 27 days until the 12th Pass
Where Candidate Barracks, Southern Weyr

Yulena2.jpg kultir2.jpg maosa-neutral.png


Candidate Barracks
Perhaps the safest place in the weyr, these barracks: the stonework here is old, perhaps as old as the weyr is itself, for the uncanny cleanliness of ancient stonecutters marks neat corners and perfect arches. Richly-lit by glowlight, tapestries reflect scenes of yore from the walls - dragons flaming, holders farming, and one particularly well-made that depicts the impression of a dark-haired girl to a light-toned gold dragonet, dripping and fierce. The barracks themselves are open-air, with not even a curtain to divide the space of male from female. Bunk-bed style cots line each wall, hammocks strung along the middle for those unfortunate enough to lack the privacy that an adjoining wall brings. There are privies in the back and locker-style item storage in the front, and one especially large table next to a book-case filled with basic Harper texts.

Yulena is hanging out on her totally-democractically-obtained bunk, staring at the ceiling, as another young malfea…Candidate is brought in. She peeks over and eyes, "Hello?" The Barracks are still mostly bare, for all that it can technically fit more than one hundred, and Yulena's voice echoes a bit, "Are you new here?" Swinging down to the floor, heavy boots clomping down, perhaps a summoning bell: NEW PERSON!

Kultir slumps into the Barracks a little dispirited and stops at a bunk a few spots away from the door. He starts a little at the voice he hears, not having paid attention, and looks up. "Oh … hello." he says softly. "Yeah, guess I am. Dropped my gear off before I went for a walk." He bends to position the pillows he'd dumped from one of his packs, lifting one to his face briefly for a long inhalation of how it smells. He puts it back down at the head of the bed and glances up at the other girl. "You work in the kitchens, don't ya?" He thought he'd remembered seeing her somewhere around anyway.

Another newcomer comes not long after the first one. There's a sound of voices outside the door before this one enters: a conversation of some kind. What enters is PRESUMABLY human: it's dirty and in a raggy skirt, and that may not be hair so much as an actual bush on its head. Looks kind of girl-shaped. Maosa gets about two steps in, stares at the interior, stares at Yulena and Kultir, and then hastily tosses a tiny sack of possessions up onto the nearest empty bunk. FLEE. That was different.

Aww, it's a sad person. There's no time for sad in this ma.. women's barracks, "Hello there. Yes, I am from the kitchens. My best dish is the klah." Whether it's a dish or not. Yulena moves over to Kultir and watches him for a moment: "Are you feeling okay?" she asks with unusual… consideration. Just in case someone decides to hurl or unpleasant things. "I'm Yulena. Well met." Oh look, a hand is presented for hearty handshake.

Kultir is somewhat distracted by the … person? … fleeing through the Barracks. Yulena's introduction of herself brings him back from wondering what exactly just flew through. He shakes her hand carefully and nods briefly. "Kultir. Well met." he says. He drags the bulging pack to the foot of the bed and kneels by the clothes chest to put his gear away. He glances up and gives her a small smile. "Yeah … I'm alright, just … … not quite as … happy as everyone supposes I ought to be." He shrugs slightly, carefully stacking his clothing in the chest, shirts on one side and trousers on the other.

Oh hey look. There was another wo… person in the barracks, but for the little colleciton of belongings she left on the bed, there's little trace. "Huh. I hope we see her again." Since Yulie's totally not moving that bag of stuff. Oh yes. "Well met, Kultir." Hearing the young man's story of woe, Yulena shrugs, "I was here at the last Hatching too. It doesn't always change your life," whether you want it to or not. "OH! I have to tell D'gert.. No, wait, he'll be too busy…" and for a moment, the cook is lost in thought before explaining, "My assistant. D'gert. Impressed last time." Choppy. Sentences. "So, you never know how it'll turn out." Just like a souffle.

Kultir smiles and chuckles softly at her choppy sentences. "It's changed it enough already. Not sure I can take many more changes." he says, smoothing the top shirt and closing the lid again. He shoves himself back to his feet and shrugs. "But … I'm here now. Till they take this away and say they made a mistake or something." He flips the tail of the white knot, fully convinced that Nika had made a huge mistake in sticking him in the Barracks.

Yulena snorts a little, "We are here… and then, here we are," and from Yulena's vocal inflection, that's supposed to be deep and profound. Keep up, kids. "Why would they consider this a mistake?" Yulena wonders at Kultir, not so much to. Yulena? Not so great for the comforting. "If anything, you're here now, and they'll let the dragons decide, right? Just like they did with me last time," and the cook's tone is matter-of-fact, "I mean, I'm here again right?" There's some logic in there that Yulena isn't going to get into right now.

Kultir blinks at the woman and frowns slightly. "You've been here before?" he asks, incredulous. Why in the name of baby dragons would she want to go through this sort of thing more than once? He's only been here a bare half-day and he's already fed up with the restrictions and changes they've decided to impose on him. He sighs and shrugs. "Though you might be right … let the dragons decide and prove Nika wrong." Or right. He may hope but he'll never admit it except to that one special person.

Yulena nods a little, arms crossing over her chest almost defensively, "Yes… well, sort of. When I had time." And who doesn't have time to sleep? A weyrwoman's assistant, THAT's who. "It was a bit more chaotic last time," Yulena confesses, and then a slow snort, like Yulena's drawing out her derision. "Don't… ah, don't let Nika fool you. She's … interesting. But she's good." Because plain 'interesting' people don't just win dragon-riding competitions, or get made Wingleader for funsies. A little nod to the younger man, "I confess, I haven't seen you about. Where were you before?"

Kultir settles onto the bed and leans against the bedpost. "I've been in the Weyr about three moons now … going on four." he says, twisting the ring on his left hand unconsiously. "Afore that … little bit of everywhere. Been wandering Pern since I was 13." He glances up at her and shrugs slightly. "How about you?" He rather ignores her speech about Nika, not wanting to think about the woman who has upended his life, even if it is a short time.

Yulena huhs. Strange. "You're sure?" Sure he's sure. "S'a shame I haven't seen you before now. Maybe I've just spent too much time in the kitchens." Yulie says this like she wasn't planning to put a cot in a closet; okay, she totally was and flushes. "I hail from Nerat area. Moved around a bit before coming here," oooh look, vague, "But I was at the Igen hatching before here. They had a bunch of women impressing other colours." You know, not gold. Yulie starts to relax and unfolds her arms, "Sooooo… You in a Craft or something?" Clearly the cook's grasp of polite conversation is slipping, despite her attempts to grasp it heavily!

Kultir chuckles and nods. "I'm sure. I been around but, probably just missed you since I haven't lived in the dorms for most of the time I been here." he says. He nods at her information. "I spent a bit in Igen before coming here, maybe three or four days." He sighs and shakes his head. "Nope, I was workin' on getting a tracker's job. Explorin' the jungle and trackin' the felines that come too close to the Weyr, that sort of thing." Yep, he's one of the crazy ones that wanders in the wilder portions of the jungle and tries to find out where the wild critters lair.

Yulena huhs. That's a better excu…reason than usual. "Tracking, huh? Should talk with Aaron the Smith about that - he's got all sorts of pointy things meant for dealing with felines." A little shake of the head and Yulena espies someone DARING to eye her bunk. "Well, as long as you like the klah…" and then a little bleat of dismay, "Oh no… I still have to give those hides to the Headman…" Um. "If you'll excuse me," Yulena apologizes - soon the fearsome hold of the dreaded Renalde will fade… but that's not today, as the white-knot retrieves some hides from atop her bed and then glares at the surroundings, before dashing out the door, a "Byeeee!" echoing behind her.

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