====July 13, 213
====Bailey, Arianne
====Bailey and Arienne discuss how pretty much everyone sucks.

Who Bailey, Arianne
What Going through moldy books, and deciding everyone sucks.
When There is 1 turn 9 months and 3 days until the 12th pass
Where Southern Weyr - Library

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Archive Library
Once, books lined these shelves… Once. Now a skybroom tree grows, rising from the cracked and jumbled rock-over-dirt floor, natural light flooding down a rift in the ceiling above.


Her scope has slowly stretched from living-caverns and kitchens to this abandoned room in a various state of rehabilitation: Bailey, that is, the tall redhead meandering from crate to crate, moving waterlogged and ruined books into the bigger of the two, while things still semi-legible are stacked in a different spot. The tree still looms, alive and thriving, among the midst of it all.

With the arrival of another ginger in the library, will Pern implode from awesomeness? One step, two steps… and everything seems to remain in place. Damn shame. Arianne's apparently found a crate of books in some obcure corner of another room in the weyr that has been cleaned out. And, decided to haul them over herself. "Afternoon, weyrwoman." she offers politely, setting down her burden and starting to sift through the books contained therein. "Do we have much that's salvageable?"

Two gingers IN THE SAME ROOM? This is going to be either the most awesome or most horrible thing like ever. "Arianne," Bailey greets absently, focused on her task. She wanders over at the sight of Moar BOOKS however, and starts to fiddle through them, sorting them as the ones already sorted. "Not too much. Only one book that I've touched that is in good shape — a small pamphlet on beasthealing, of all things. I'm sure the Herders will be curious to see it."

Two gingers of the same height and build, even. Whatever will happen to Southern?? CHAOS. "Only one?" Disappointment laces her tone at that, obviously having hoped for some more reading material. "Ah well. Hopefully we will re-stock over time." It seems most of these books aren't waterlogged. But they are moldy from being stored in humidity. Some with actual bookworms evident. To which the brownrider makes a bit of a face. "So how do you like it here? Compared to Igen at least."

"Only one," Bailey confirms. Her hair, at least, is quite a bit darker than Arianne's— and her eyes are lighter. SOME kind of differentiation, though otherwise they rather look like individuals who could easily be related. (They're probably going to give more than one bronzerider crazy twin fantasies, no lie.) "Well, I was only at Igen for a few months," states husky-voiced Bailey, looking up with amusement. It is rather well-known that she is the foster-kid goldrider of Pern: Khalyssrielth and herself have been at Benden, Telgar, High Reaches, Fort, Igen, an now Southern — and it isn't as if they are old by any stretch. "You?" she queries, slanting grey eyes across.

They will surely use the lurid bronzerider fantasies to their advantage too. Because, duh! "Fair enough." A dimpled Arianne-smile appears, keeping the tone light even if she's touching on ill-considered subjects. "Hopefully your stay here will be more permanent then, right? Has to be hard doing all that moving around." You can barely make friends that way, afterall. "It's giving me new opportunities. I'm not terribly keen on the humidity. And I think I'll start to weep if I have to explore one more dark cavern full of… things. But hey. Being with the first wave has its merits." As in, the opportunities. "And I don't think I've ever been so busy. I like keeping busy."

There's a deep sigh, probably unrealized before it actually HAPPENS, and Bailey's looking up after with brief embarassment. "Hopefully. We'll see. Until Lendai decides to kick me out." Her tone is light, but there is that underlying steel of truth that all abandoned children pick up - and some unfortnate ones carry with them onwards in life. Nevertheless, "I like keeping busy, too, and there is certainly plenty to do here." She glances over with a more-friendly conspiratorial look; "What team have you been assigned to?"

Arianne looks startled at the mere idea… she doesn't even pick up on the embarassment because she's too busy asking questions she probably ought not to. "Why would Lendai kick you out? I don't understand…" No, she hasn't met Lendai yet. Why do you ask? She's good at shifting gears though, the appearance of friendly conspiracy suddenly having mischeif wound up in it too. "Serval." she admits, lips curling up into a smirk. "I've been tasked with goading some of the lazier riders into needing to prove themselves. So, Nika and I are going to play 'good guard, bad guard' with em. It'll be -great-. And Caelth is such a mean bastard; I think people are going to forget I'm not actually like him in personality."

"I've a history with being kicked out," Bailey reports. "At least I've learned to live - and pack - light." Her lips screw into another of those self-effacing expressions. "We'll see. Lendai seems…" really fucking unstable sometimes, "…an interesting weyrwoman." At least she's learned tact throughout all of this. "Oh, Serval. I've heard of some of the riders going into that. I wish you and Nika the best of luck." Her mouth crooks into a half-smile, wholly friendly: "I know that feeling. Khalyssrielth…" Her voice drifts off. How to quantify the impossible?

"That's terrible. If it mmakes you feel better, High Reaches booted my ass out as soon as I finished Weyrlinghood. Then stuck me down in Igen where I was immediately placed in the loser wing." So Arianne knows what it's like to be unwanted at least. Her smile. It's rueful. "It sounds like I should avoid her if at all possible." is decided on a whim. Interesting, with that note of hesitation, often means trouble. "Oh, don't worry about Nika and I. I'm used to… people like the ones that will be in our wing." Her mouth tightens a bit in remembrance. But then, it softens into an understanding smile. "So we have the same problem. Interesting how it happens like this sometimes isn't it? The unlikeliest pairings. But, it works. It actually works."

"Fuck High Reaches," Bailey states, but without heat. She for one isn't interested in the players there these days — her leaving wasn't without a lot of vitriol for Vienn, and that's the honest truth. She glances at the other with the rueful expression of one who UNDERSTANDS. "These oldtimers don't quite get it, do they? How things work here." She shakes her head. "At least you have Q'fex to go to, should you need any assistance in how to deal with fuck-ups." And then she winks, shameless, at the other woman.

Arianne appears actually relieved that there is one person here who really -gets it-. What it's like to live in these times, and deal with these people. "They really don't, do they? And if you try and explain, you get kind of a surprised blank look. And the women riders that are oldtimers… they just have no idea. No idea why the rest of us on fighting dragons are so wary and tense most of the time." Her sigh is enough to blow a few stray hairs out of her face, just before she laughs outright at Bailey's suggestion of who to go to for assistance. "I actually feel kind of bad for the guy. Everyone expects him to fail, I think. But he's making an effort here. A sober one, even. For more then a day in a row!" Quelle surprise, right??

"And then they have the gall, the honest and ridiculous gall, to rub in our faces," and Bailey's voice is quietly savage here, savage and low, "—the fact that things were so much nicer, back then. How women used to be treated. Nevermind the fact that they are likely the reason why things regressed in the first place," with a bitter little laugh. About Q'fex, she snorts. "We'll see, I suppose. If he stays sober more than a month I'll be surprised."

"And then they have the gall, the honest and ridiculous gall, to rub in our faces," and Bailey's voice is quietly savage here, savage and low, "—the fact that things were so much nicer, back then. How women used to be treated. Nevermind the fact that they are likely the reason why things regressed in the first place," with a bitter little laugh. About Q'fex, she snorts. "We'll see, I suppose. If he stays sober more than a month I'll be surprised."

"Right?." Ari all but squeaks out that agreement. "And the oldtimer guys… pffft. Forget about any of them understanding. I mean, in one way they do. They're confused by how we're treated. But, they've never experienced it. So they just don't know." Exasperation, disappointment. It's all there in just those few words and her changing expressions. One that settles on rueful. "He needs to. Unless he picks a damn good Weyrsecond, we need him sober so that wings full of us dont die the first day out fighting thread because of disorganization. Maybe we should find all his booze and pour it out." And re-check on a daily basis? She makes a face again. That's just not going to work.

Bailey clenches her jaw at mention of oldtimer men. "They treat you like broken glass," so states the goldrider as she lifts up a book, careful, fingers running so-soft over the ruint cover. "Like broken glass, something that isn't whole, isn't healthy, isn't hale. Something that cannot be mended, because we are as we are, aren't we?" Her voice, so soft, trails off. She shakes her hand and places the book into the ruined pile, firmly, without remorse. "From what I've heard from the leadership meetings, his style isn't to have one. A Weyrsecond, that is. Igen was without one for so long, of course, and that being what he knows…" She snorts at the idea of pouring out all his whiskey, terribly amused.

"Six of one, half-dozen of the other." Arianne quips. The men, and their extremes. "It's too bad there's not much to do that can show them the error in their thinking." she muses then, equally soft, while she listens to Bailey discuss Igen's leadership. Her expression grows somewhat pained then, cause she was really hoping… "Well, shit. We need -someone- to keep him sober. He doesn't listen to Kraaken about it, I don't think." She huffs out a sigh at that. Forgive the slightly devious smile as she glances over then, tongue in cheek as her ideas just become more outlandish. "I bet the others Weyrs would soil themselves if the women just took over and ran things, should he go back to drinking himself senseless. Wouldn't it be kind of fun to see even just one expression of sheer terror?"

"Indeed." Bailey shakes her head with a smile, done with Arianne's crate. She dusts her hands on her pants, briefly considering. "I think it's due time for me to take a break and grab a bite to eat. Would you like to join me?" Her smile is a little crooked, and she gestures for the woman to follow her, should the idea be acceptable.

Arianne suddenly finds herself hungry, at the mention of a break and food. So she smiles and nods along with the invitation and proceeds to follow Bailey, hands stuffed in pockets, and expression thoughtful.

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