==== October 14th, 2013
==== Kapia, Daren, Taralde
==== Two Candidates and a stable-hand walk into the baths… no joke. Seriously.

Who Kapia, Daren, Taralde
What Two Candidates and a stable-hand walk into the baths… no joke. Seriously.
When Early afternoon
Where Southern Weyr

Kapia2.png daren.jpg t-ral_tired.jpg


The steamy fog of the baths could be an entirely different world, transitioning from the well-lit brilliance of the inner caverns: a different world entirely, one wrought in dreams and humid fog. Steam lifts from hot waters, obscuring those who bathe within, a drenching any who dare enter. Well-maintained, well-stocked, the baths offer pre-netted portions of soapsand in various scents, fluffy towels in orderly rows, and five separate spring-fed pools, all of differing temperature: from scorching hot to soothing chill.

Taralde chases after Kapia, "Hey, wait!" moving quickly under the archway to the hatching sands, the older Candidate hustles up to Kapia.

Kapia is swiftly walking away from the sands. She's a sweaty mess by now, visibly effected by the heat of the sands. But when Taralde calls out she pauses, turning and waiting for him.

Taralde hustles in from the sands, and falls in beside the other Candidate. "That was a heckuva thing, eh?"

"It was scary!" Kapia admits, obviously a little shaken by the whole thing. She shakes her head and manages a little smile. "… Was it scary for you?"

Kapia ponders the offer for a moment and nods. "Yeah. That sounds like a really good idea… I'm kind of horribly sweaty after being out on the sands like that for so long. How about we grab some ice water and go to the baths?" She suggests, head tilted.

Taralde nods, "Water. Yes. Lots of it." He grins and the two walk in relative silence, minds full of images, feelings, echoes of the creatures they may, soon, Impress.

After the egg touching, Kapia is a real mess. Practically drenched with sweat, she's almost embarassed to be seen out like this. She spends as little time as possible securing a big pitcher of ice water, which she clutches possessively at she makes her way into the baths, crouching by the nearest pool to set the pitcher down. "Shards. I don't know how I'll handle the hatching in that heat…" She murmurs, moving to a bench nearby to pry off her shoes.

Tarlalde's mind is awhirl with the jarring imagery from the Sands. He taps that very dark and bright sand off of his sandals, thinking the sand is very reflective of the experiences. He shucks his clothes behind a screen and folds them neatly, stuffing them into a cubby. The steam is thick, but he hustles into the water nonetheless. This kind of hot is good. Watery muscles are supported and he lets himself float. Face is all that's exposed. He can hear the warbling distortions of Kapia's lament. And his own voice is amplified, strange. "No kidding. At least the robes are light." He lifts his head, supporting himself again, "You done with your robe?"

Since Taralde is safely behind a screen, Kapia works on quickly shucking her sweaty mess of an outfit on the other side, cramming it into a cubby before she slips into the water, sighing in relief. She's clearly thrilled to feel something approaching clean. "Mmhhmmm." She murmurs, eyes half-shut. "Had to spend all my free day on it… but it's done. Yours?"

That information secured, Taralde dips back down, "Yeah. Finished it this morning." He floats, pushing towards the ice water pitcher and pours a glass, "Want any?"

After a moment of soaking to just rinse the worst of the sweat from her, Kapia leans out to try to grab some soapsand near the rim of the bath. She's going to need that to be properly clean. She glances back to Taralde over her shoulder, nodding. "Yeah." She grabs the basket and slips back lower in the water. "That was… intense."

Taralde swims a glass over to Kapia, setting it down on the edge of the bath. He swims back and pours his own. He takes up a perch in the corner, arms stretching out, upper chest, shoulders and head out of the water. He rakes a hand across his face and over his head, short hair raising in a whacky crest. He takes a deep breath. "Yeah." He takes a sip of water, relishing how cold it feels in his chest cavity with all the damp warmth about.

Kapia greedily guzzles down the ice water, sighing pleasantly at how it seems to dull the lingering heat inside her. Looking over at Taralde, she seems to get an idea of what to do with the rest of her glass. She shifts, perching herself on a ledge with the water just up to her waist, then pours the contents of the glass out over her head, ice and all. That immediately seems to take some of the redness out of her face, and she sighs happily, sliding the glass back over towards Taralde across the bath rim. "More, please." She murmurs.

Taralde tops off his glass and then swims the pitcher over to Kapia, rising out of the water with his face turned decently away from her nakedness. He keeps his eyes fixed on the pitcher and the glass and the pouring. His eyes flick to hers and away to the pitcher, "All yours." He backs to his corner, stretching out again, feeling the sweat spring out on his skin, but not feeling the sweat itself for all the water and steam. Preferable by far. Staring at the ceiling he asks, neck stretched taut, adam's apple bobbing, "Any good ones?"

Kapia takes the pitcher, refilling her glass and quickly pouring more cold water onto herself. Then she pours a second glass, one she evidently intends to drink like a normal person. "Thanks." She murmurs again, finally having cooled down. She may not be the most modest candidate, but now that the heat is dealt with she finds it a good idea to slip back deeper into the water, submerged up to her neck. "The eggs?" She asks, head tilted. "Eh… one was kind of nice. The others were… well… scary. Mostly. You?"

Taralde lifts his head, neck cording, "Yeah? I had a nice one too. The one that looked like a worn rock formation." He shakes his head, eyes alight, "It was… something." His eyes are distant for a moment … he blinks. "Right. There were some just plain strange ones and, yeah… disturbing too." He rubs at the back of his arm and drops down again, submerged up to his chin. "Some of them I," he pauses, squinting, "I didn't really like, but," He screws his face up, the former-Harper not accustomed to being at a loss for words, "They were important too. Somehow. I," he sighs, a shifting of water, "I dunno. When I work that out, I'll write a song."

"I didn't expect it to be so… intense." Kapia murmurs, frowning as she reaches for a handful of soapsand, starting the business of getting herself properly clean. "I mean, I expected it to be sort of like when I impressed my firelizard. Some sort of mental conntection. Feelings. But not all that… those images, those questions." She shakes her head. "I guess I was just… overwhelmed."

Taralde laughs, "Halfway through I about sat right down on the sands." He swishes the water in front of him baaaack and forth, baaaack and forth. He squints through the fog at another person entering, but it's thick enough now he can't really see. "I saw you touch the one with the keyhole shape."

Kapia lounges in the water, across the tub from Taralde. She's lazily rubbing soapsand into herself, clearly drained from the time spent on the terribly hot sands. "That would've been a bad idea. Sitting. It was already too hot just standing on those sands…" She frowns a little. "It looked neat, but that keyhole one was… scary. Overwhelming. Like someone screaming in my head."

Daren slips into the Baths silently, his net bag of clean clothes and washing supplies is dropped on a bench near one of the shallower end of a pool. The fog in the air effectively hides the young man as he divests himself of nearly all of his clothing, leaving only a pair of what his adopted sister had called swimming shorts. He slips into the pool quietly, murmuring a shy, "Hello," to let the current occupants know that he is there.

"Yeah." Nodding, Taralde's single syllable is freighted with understanding. Everything gone, everything bad and dead and all my fault. He leans forward at the newcomer, squinting through the fog, "Daren? That you?"

"You found a couple like that too, huh?" Kapia asks Taralde, one eyebrow slightly lifted. Having been distracted and fatigued by the day's events, she only notices Daren once he's in the water. She gives him a tired little smile. "Oh! Hey, Daren."

The water sloshes a little as Daren moves away from the edge a little so that he can get wet all over. "Yes." he says, simply. "Hi … Kapia?" He places the girl's voice after a moment's thought but the male voice doesn't belong to any name he recalls hearing though it is familiar. "Ummm … I'm sorry. I don't remember your name, sir?" The young man remains in the thicker bit of fog, which allows his blush to be hidden and keeps them from seeing the bruises he'd gotten from his new set of lessons.

"Taralde, not 'Sir.' Leastwise, not outside the Archives." He grins, "How's it going?" he ask directly about the reading, but he knows how shy Daren is about how far behind he is. "

Kapia smiles and nods when Daren remembers her name. She edges a little closer, so that she can at least be sort of glimpsed through the steam in the air. "How've you been? I haven't seen you since…" She pauses and ponders. "… Actually, I guess it hasn't been all that long. It just feels like so much has changed."

Daren frowns as the man reminds him what the name is and nods slightly. "Taralde. It's going okay." he says softly. Dipping a little of his soapsand out, it gets wetted and then scrubbed into his skin. Looking up, he notices Kapia moving out of the shrouding fog and stops a flinch before it starts. "I've been doing okay. You've been busy ever since you got that white knot, haven't you? I've seen you working with a bunch of the other people that wears those white knots." He continues scrubbing, too hungry to wish to linger over his bath.

Taralde nods at Daren and then sits quietly, soaking contentedly. After a while, soft snoring can be heard.

Either noticing the aborted flinch or simply wishing to avert discomfort before it can start, Kapia keeps her distance, just barely close enough for polite conversation. She resumes her scrubbing. "Yeah." She confirms. "We went out on the sands today. It was really something."

Daren peers up at her and frowns a bit. "On the sands?" he asks, curious now. "You mean where the eggs are?" His eyes widen at the thought of being anywhere near those huge ovoids. "What … what happened? Did you touch them? What did the mama dragon do? She didn't try to hurt you did she?" Curiosity, fear and a hint of longing color his tone as he fires more questions at her than he normally speaks in a whole conversation.

It's hard to peer up at Kapia. She's a short thing. And mostly sunk in the water at the moment. She shakes her head quickly as she scrubs her arms. "No, no. Candidates are supposed to go on the sands sometimes, to touch the eggs. It's tradition. It's…" She tilts her head. "… Strange. Very strange. They put these thoughts in your head."

"Oh …" Daren says softly. He scrubs his torso as he ponders her words, frowning slightly. "How … how does that happen?" he finally asks, totally confused. "They aren't dragons yet …" The boy shakes his head slightly in wonder and then shrugs his shoulders. It's probably another thing he'll never understand properly.

"I have no idea." Kapia admits, a little mystified herself. She lifts a leg out of the bathwater to scrub it. "But it does. You touch the shell, and you start feeling weird things in your mind. It's incredible."

Daren is still perplexed about the whole event but nods anyway. "It sounds … scary." he says softly, finishing his legs, dropping the second foot down into the water once more. "I don't know if I'd want to do that …" Of course the boy doesn't know if he would want to be a rider either.

Kapia finishes one leg, starts in on the other one. "It was scary." She admits, voice quiet. "… I've never experienced anything like that before. It was overwhelming."

Daren finishes scrubbing his hair as he listens to her quiet voice and nods slightly. He ducks under the water, eyes squinted closed so that he can rinse the short tendrils of the soapy lather. He resurfaces and slicks his hair back off his face. "Hmm. Well. I … I wish you all the luck in the world, Kapia." he says softly. "I'm supposed to meet Mel to go for a picnic in a little while. I'll see you later?" The young man moves toward the edge and lifts himself out to towel himself off before donning his clean clothing.

Taralde snorts awake from dragon dreams, all pruney. All alone. How long have I been here?! He sees remnants of ice in the pitcher and breathes a sigh of relief. Not long. He scrambles for his clothes, dries off, dresses and leaves.

An oracle could read the swirling of the mists, the patterns of wet footprints, the skirls of sand on the bottom of the baths. Omens… Hatching day draws near…

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