====September 13th, 2013
====Bailey, Donner, Jedi, Sytin
====MISSING BEGINNING OF THIS LOG! Donner and Sytin anger both Bailey and Jedi, and then Donner gets Searched!

Who Bailey, Donner, Jedi, Sytin
What Donner and Sytin anger both Bailey and Jedi, and then Donner gets Searched!
When There is 1 turn 2 months and 28 days until the 12th pass.
Where Stables and Candidate Barracks, Southern Weyr

bai_bitchplz.png 2lk3zt1.jpg jedi_icon.jpg Sytin-Young_Icon.jpg


Rehabilitated, the stone stables of Southern sweep grandly in arches and valuted ceilings. A half-loft in the back shows openly the hay piled in sweet-scenting mounds. Beneath, broad box stalls house inhabitants safely away from the purview of dragons… nickers and restless stompings fill the air to blend in with hay and runner-sweat and leather: sweet nirvana.


Shards and stones! Sytin freezes mid-shuffle as Bailey calls to him, his expression indicating a level of suitable terror on his part. Ulp. "I'm just delivering these runnershoes, ma'am. Aaron will be expecting me back for other work very shortly." There's a nervous quaver to his voice that he tries to quell unsuccessfully. Donner gets a glare, however. If looks could kill, Donner would be on the floor writhing right now. In agony. "My apologies if I disturbed you or the runners." He tries to slide a little further, hoping to escape the weyrwoman's wroth.

Snails taste delicious when brined and boiled in butter. Bailey looks like a person who may be perverse enough to enjoy escargot. "Donner, I'm not going to bite you." Her black eye is all-but-faded now, even! Just the faintest queasy hint of green and yellow banding. "Could you explain to me why you were flinging shit, resident? Is it that you are incapable of even mucking manure without supervision?" To Sytin she lifts a hand peremptorily; "No, you stay right there. Aaron can wait." She can't be planning on killing Donner, then! Because why would she want an witness? Oh, wait. Maybe Sytin is her AUDIENCE.

Of course it would be the words "flinging shit" she walks in on, wouldn't it? Those words, without any immediate context…are met with raised eyebrows, and a slightly bemused look. "Someone was flinging runner shit? Not at you, I hope, weyrwoman." Noting Bailey's desire for Sytin to stay, she comes to clasp the young man on his shoulder as she comes to a stop beside him. "I'll walk back with you, if you fear his wrath." Her tone is amused. So is her face. "Aaron is a friend of mine." And then her eyes flick back to Bailey and Donner. Whatever intentions Jedi had had when she'd entered the stables are apparently put on hold!

Yeah, Donner doesn't believe you Bailey. If that isn't obvious by the face Donner makes, eyebrows knitting together to punctuate his skepticism, he manages to take a step backwards. But he totally has an answer: "Because Renalde said that I'm 'the laziest, sorriest, most idiotic child he's ever seen that can't even be trusted with the simplest of tasks, so I need to muck the Stables for the rest of my sorry existence." All of that is emphasized with misguided air quotes too. There's a shrug, a 'what are you gonna do,' shrug, one boney elbow reaching for Donner's ear. "I accidentally burnt the laundry last week. Had to scrape most of his underthings from the bottom of the pot." He tugs at his ear, thoughtful. "I think he was angry 'bout it."

Hells bells. If blood could freeze, Sytin would be that prime candidate for that to happen. As it stands, he's simply going to do his best impression of being frozen. When Jedi touches him on the shoulder he nearly jumps out of his skin, however, making an undignified sound of fright and then panting and looking at Jedi with a white-eyed glance. Has the calvary arrived? It's a girl, slightly embarrassing, but the Smith is happy for all the assistance he can get. Donner, on the other hand, gets more of a glare. This boy must have a serious death wish, mouthing off to the Queen of Air and Darkness. Or is that Khalyssrielth? It's hard to say. Regardless, Sytin mouths at Donner urgently. "Shut. Up!" Seriously!

Bailey smirks slyly askance to Jedi, as well a welcome as any receive. "Inadvertantly," she confirms the hypothesis of shit-flung-at-her, "… or so I hope." Sharp eyes gleam, directed at Donner. His announcement of Renalde's statement gives the woman a thoughtful pause. "He is so eloquent, isn't he?" The Headman. Bailey is irrascible. "It strikes me that he has told you that you fail at being a drudge." Pause. "That's basically failing at life, Donner." A LONGER pause for that to sink in. "But… I think yo…" Whatever she WAS going to say is interrupted by Sytin, and she shoots the Smith a glance filled with rebuke. "Did we ask for your opinion, apprentice?"

Jedi tries to keep a straight face at Donnor when he explains how epicly he's been failing at life. She even mostly succeeds! Those who know her best will recognize the furrow between her eyebrows as surpressed laughter, and Sytin's shoulder gets another pat. But she doesn't appear to be too into the idea of letting go of him just yet. He's her captive, or something along the lines of that. Jedi leans over to the boy to whisper something. Perhaps to help him. "Well, at least it wasn't intentional." Or at least, so she will infer. "Do you enjoy pressing Renalde's buttons, Donner?"

Jedi mutters, "He's digging his own grave. If he can't catch the hint with a weyrwoman here, then… Well, I'm afraid you'd only be digging your own hole." to Sytin.
You overhear Jedi mutter, "He's … … own … If … … catch the … with a … … … … … … … only be … … … …" to Sytin.

If you're expecting Donner to look nonplussed by being called an idiot, ya'll will be SUPER disappointed. Bailey's reflection is met with another shrug, and he's tilting his head to one side to scratch idly at his temple. "Well, we all can't be winners. My dad always said that." Ever the underachiever, Donner doesn't even protest on that observation. Jedi's question gives his apathy a pause, and he's shooting the brownrider the most indignant of looks. "But oy, I'm not -trying- to push his buttons. I'm just doing what I'm told. And sometimes, well, okay, most of the time, I'm not very good at it." There's a quick scowl shot towards Sytin, because well, Donner doesn't like him because, well, BECAUSE, "Is it really my fault the Headman gets his panties in a twist so often? No offense, weyrwoman."

"No." Sytin straightens, putting a little steel into his backbone. "But I hate to see someone dig their own grave." Lips quirk, an almost smile sneaking onto the Smith's face. "Especially when they were doing such a good job filling it with manure." Maybe he's trying to impress Jedi. Maybe he's lost his mind. Maybe he just likes standing up for the weak and defenseless just a little too much. Jedi's words get a small chuckle, the Apprentice's head shaking as he acknowledges her, if his actions can be said to truly be doing that. "I mean, really, Bailey, you can't fix stupid, why waste your time?" There goes that smart mouth again. Or maybe it's an unsmart mouth. Either way, he's bound to get it.

Everyone has lucked out, it seems, because a familiar noise can be heard outside, grumbling. Bailey looks at both of the boys, shakes her head, and points at Jedi. "You're in charge here." Does that mean TAG YOU'RE IT? It must, because the goldrider is stalking outside, a swift pace to her stride.

Color Jedi distinctly unimpressed, and when left with two hapless individuals, what can one do? "I'm going to give the two of you a free piece of advice." This comment is said in a dry tone as she releases Sytin's shoulder, and steps away from the apprentice. "Don't go pissing off goldriders just for the fun of it. Or trying to. Because that never works out well." Sytin is considered for a moment, and she smiles. It's the nice smile those who ride in her wing with her know to be worried about; unfortunately for these two, since they haven't seen it before.. "If Aaron has a problem with your being late, direct him to me for explanation." That sounds ominous. She could just send a flitter or go with him herself, but well, that would be too easy apparently! It's not a dismissal, by any means. Donner, for his part, gets a considering look. "Donner." It's just his name, inflectionless and sampled by the way she pronounces it. As if he's about to find a meal made of himself.

Look, Donner might be called an idiot, but it's the type of thing that he tolerates from people that outrank him or are older than him. He hears Sytin, loud and clear, and his lips thin. Usually Donner is a slow burn, but there's a sudden flair of anger-that is, once Bailey is gone. Because while he is an idiot, he has just a lick of common sense. "Oy, you, what did you call me?" He moves quickly now, right up to Jedi and Sytin, using his height to leer over the smaller boy, and he punctuates the air with a flailing hand. "Are you -really- going to let him mouth off like that? Who is this little shit anyway?!-if you had half a mind, you wouldn't come in here and mouth off to the Weywoman like your shardin' opinion mattered." He swings around to give Jedi another indignant, yet pleading look. Justice! Are you going to give him JUSTICE? "Are you really going to let him say that? I may not be the smartest person here, but Jedi, LOOK AT HIM." He jabs a finger back Sytin's way. "He's pint SIZED."

Has Fate smiled on Sytin? Or merely delayed the inevitable? "It wasn't for the fun of it," Sytin's response is slightly squeaky and he swallows, squaring his shoulders. He knows this kind of conflict never ends well but it can't stand by and do nothing while others suffer, can he? Jedi's predatory grin doesn't get a rise out of the Smith largely due to ignorance and a simple nod in regards to the lateness. Then Donner is towering over him, causing the Apprentice to have to peer up. "You're one to talk about mouthing off to the Weyrwoman," he observes dryly. "I simply tried to distract her long enough so you could go crawl off like the mindless burrower that you seem to be." Sytin is a bit irritated now. He was trying to save Donner! Some gratitude he's getting! "Oy, at least my brain didn't relocate to my nethers like yours clearly has!"

"I'm not all that tall myself, if you hadn't noticed." Jedi remarks calmly enough to Donner, on the matter about size. "Both of you shut up!" They're both getting the eyes from Jedi now. The eyes of someone who's about to devour their favorite food. "Sytin, I believe your Journeyman is missing you right about now." That, now that is a clear warning from the woman, in the tone of someone who expects to be obeyed. Without waiting to see if she's obeyed, she turns to Donner, and considers him again. "Donner." This time his name is not said slowly, or as if she were sampling it. "His Journeyman will deal with him; but you. Bailey gave me permission for me to handle this. And I have just the thing in mind." A hand withdraws from her pocket, a white knot dangling from her fingers, offered in Donner's direction. "Walk with me."

What. "What." No seriously, what? "You got to be kidding me." The moment Jedi pulls that knot out, Donner pales. It's like watching the already pallor teen turn sheet white. He stands for a moment, not moving, staring down at Jedi with a look could kill. "Are you serious? Are you serious? Is that a candidate knot? Are. You. Serious?!" His gaze flickers from Sytin to Jedi and back again, and for the first time, and probably the last time, he gives the younger boy a look that says 'help me.' "JEDI WHY ARE YOU PUNISHING ME?!" Donner wails this, but he walks with the brownrider. He's going to listen. But he isn't going to like it.

Stubborn, but certainly not stupid — unlike some people — Sytin knows when it's time to turn tail and make like a tunnelsnake. Or something. Runnershoes pail is quickly deposited in the back where it belongs — approximately anyway — and the Smith offers Jedi a sort of hasty, sloppy salute. The knot goes unnoticed by the Apprentice, since he's still pretty clueless about this whole Weyr thing still. Lucky him? Either way, he's off and away before Donner's words can hit home, scampering back to the Smithy like a good — or possibly terrified — little Apprentice.

Poor Donner, the grin Jedi gives him is not sympathetic in the least bit. "It is, and I am indeed serious." She is glad, when she turns around, to find that Sytin listened to something she said, and walks without doubt that Donner will be following after her. While making a mental note to track down Aaron later. "It is not a punishment, Donner. Consider it an…exercise." She glances up at him as they walk, and dangles the knot at him again. "You've shown you have no fear of getting in trouble, of pushing buttons. Well, then consider this your chance to learn. And possibly end up with much more than just yourself to care about." There is very little doubt where her steps are taking them. Despite the fact that he hasn't taken the knot yet.

The look Donner gives Jedi is dubious. Such sage advice. All that advice that Donner totally won't take. "Yeah, a learning exercise," he parrots back drolly, and reaches for the knot with such a reluctance. Poor guy, always getting himself in some sort of ass backwards situation. He's following her out. Out of the stables, because well, poop-he just got himself into a whole 'nother shitty situation. At least in his mind. "If I accept this knot, does this mean-I don't have to answer to Renalde anymore?" Just checking, because if that's the case, shit, give him that candidate knot NOW.


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.

"Actually, you still have to answer to Renalde. And pretty much everyone else." Jedi's reply is cheerful; odd that. "If you don't Impress, you go back to life as it was before. If you do…well, that's a whole different story." She's waited until he's taken the knot to actually walk him to the candidate barracks as it is, but now that he has it in hand, she walks right on in there. "You'll have chores, and lessons, and once the eggs get hard enough there will be touchings." She gives him a long hard look, and waggles a finger at him. "BUT. Being a Candidate is just like being an Apprentice: you can get thrown out. So it's your choice. Make the right one." And then she smiles. "Choose a cot, and settle in. This place'll have a lot of you Candidates because of the number of eggs, but it shouldn't get too crampt." As an afterthought, she adds, "remember, you're on the bottom of the totem pole. Salute everyone just to be on the safe side." With that, and an impish grin, Donner is left…to his own devices. For the moment.

Add a New Comment