C'sei, Ealasaid


C'sei is a super responsible person and Ealasaid takes advantage.


It is sunset of the thirteenth day of the fifth month of the seventh turn of the 12th pass.


Kitchen Courtyard, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 13 Mar 2016 08:00


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"I wouldn't wait too long. Then the eggs start hatching and they get really aggravated when you're trying to walk out and leave as they're shoving you onto the sands."


Kitchen Courtyard

The domestic space of the kitchen courtyard is small, dusty, slightly over-grown, and practical. The focal point of the stone courtyard is a large well found directly in the middle. Turns have worn the once angled bricks to soft, crumbling curves about the lip, and a bucket always slightly damp is tied, secure, and ready to use at the side. Though a broom has swept here since last you passed through, it would appear the wind-borne dust has merely been heaped under the cobble-cracking shrubs of a stubborn environment that grow ever upward. A few benches are scattered around, but the feel is not comfort, for this small slice of sky and wind are saved for a kitchen staff always on the move.

This isn't generally one of those places that encourage people to linger, so it's a perfect spot for C'sei to hang around. Without any kitchen staff outside just now he pauses on his way through, leans against a wall and starts smoking. Someone inside is probably going to disapprove of this turn of events when the smell begins to travel indoors, but for the moment he's just enjoying the dry heat of the day. And a precious moment of silence while he's in between activities. Definitely nothing to see here, folks. Move right along.

Ealasaid is a woman on a mission, it seems, even if that mission has been momentarily detoured by the busy kitchen staff. With too much bustle in the kitchens, the candidate has been shunted outside to attend to her task, which appears to involve drawing water from the well in the center of the courtyard. She drops the bucket down, leaning over to ensure its fall. It's from this position that her nose begins to wrinkle, as some smell assaults it from nearby. Blue eyes lift, and don't take long to light upon C'sei. "I thought I smelled something terrible," she states with a half smile. Even as she speaks she's drawing the bucket back up toward above ground.

"I don't smell anything bad." Of course he doesn't, because he likes the disgusting things and smokes them all the time. It's a terrible, terrible habit that he's never been able to kick. If he ever even tried. C'sei watches the progress of Ealasaid from kitchen to well, giving her a brief wave before he pulls the smoke from his mouth so he can tap it out and let ashes scatter onto the ground. "How's candidacy treating you?" He wonders in a mildly curious tone of voice, his glance traveling towards the kitchens she just exited.

"I feel sorry for your nose." Ealasaid has a fairly high tolerance for terrible smells, but this is pushing it. Still, she tries to ignore it, bending herself to her task instead. That bucket is tugged over to rest on the edge of the well, before she dips her hand in the water, scrubbing at her palm. "How does candidacy treat anyone?" she asks in return, brows lifted. "Is it supposed to be some exceptional experience?" Her tone suggests that — at least for her — there's nothing exceptional about it.

"I like how it smells." He must. The drag in his mouth is finished up and he crushes it under his heel. For her question, C'sei merely shrugs his shoulders. "I guess it depends on the person." His own candidacy wasn't that long ago that he's lost complete touch with what it was like. "I didn't mind mine. I could think of a lot worse ways to spend my time back then." Which is really understating the situation, but that's not exactly relevent here.

There's a momentarily appreciative look for that smoke being crushed beneath his heel. At least he won't be adding any further stink to the air. "You must've been younger," she observes after a moment of critical assessment, as he can't be much older than her now. "I can't help thinking there are better ways to be spending my time. I don't feel like one of these kids, ready to jump into things without thinking." This is probably why there's an age cutoff for candidacy, guys. She lifts her palm up for inspection, but seems to conclude that it's not quite clean enough as she dunks it back in the water.

"Nineteen." He tilts his head from side to side, thinking maybe on the difference between now and then. "I didn't have a place to live at the time. So sitting around in the barracks and maybe impressing a dragon didn't seem like such a bad option. I do like to eat." C'sei has some pretty low expectations set on his life, really explains it all. "You could always turn the knot in, go back to the barracks. I promise that I won't hold a grudge. Faenwyth on the other hand…" He grimaces. "But she's easy enough to avoid."

Ealasaid nods, as if to say 'I was right'. Nineteen may not be the greatest age difference, but it's enough of one. "I could see wanting to impress a dragon, if you didn't have other plans." Does she have other plans? Her expression is impassive enough so as not to offer much in the way of answers. "I've thought about it," she admits without a hint of shame. But that knot rests on her shoulder today. "I don't know yet. There's still time to change my mind, so I'm giving it a shot. One less dragon to avoid."

"I wouldn't wait too long. Then the eggs start hatching and they get really aggravated when you're trying to walk out and leave as they're shoving you onto the sands." Not that C'sei would know anything about any kind of a situation like that. No, not at all. "And once you impress the dragon I've found it's next to impossible to give it back." Again, not that he would ever consider or do anything like that. His fingers twitch and pulls open the front of his jacket, feeling around the inside pocket.

"They might not like it, but they can't really stop me until I've got one of those voices in my head," Ealasaid points out with a knowing smirk. It seems her hands are finally scrubbed clean, as she tilts the bucket over and pours the dirty water onto the cobbles by her feet. "Trust me, if I'm not sure about this I'm not walking out onto those sands." There's too much of a risk, and it's there in her expression for a moment before she shrugs. His movements are eyed, with a muttered, "You pull out another one of those things and I'm leaving."

"I'm just saying, don't wait until they're cracking open to decide to get out." C'sei isn't about to try and persuade her towards one option or another. He might have searched Ealasaid but… It's not like he gets extra marks in wages for making sure they impress, right? He's patting around the inside of his jacket when he catches that mutter and instead of more cloves, he pulls out a small flask. "I'll wait until you're gone to light up again."

He doesn't? Then why is he even doing this crazy search thing? "I won't, I'm not risking of them chasing me off the sands to try and catch me." Ealasaid: the definition of practical. The woman tilts her head in acknowledgment, the gesture accompanied by a muttered thanks. Of course, "That's not much better." Is that longing in her eyes as she looks at the flask? "One drink's not going to kill us, you know."

Because it's probably like drills and sweeps, it's just part of the job. If your dragon likes someone, you bring them in. He can appreciate someone not wanting to be chased around the sands and he nods once, tipping the flask to his mouth and taking a swallow from it. C'sei levels her with a look, "I didn't make the rules up." It's not his fault she's not allowed to drink. A glance is cast around the mostly empty courtyard and he waves the thing at her in a kind of passive invitation to take a sip. Worst influence ever.

C'sei clearly doesn't know how to get a fair price for his labor. Ealasaid budies herself for a few seconds with setting the well to rights again, leaving it as she found it. Then she turns her hands over, inspecting her palms carefully. They're scraped up, though such a thing might not be evident until she wanders her way closer to reach for that flask. "You enforce them," she points out, although her smirk suggests some disbelief in her own words. If he's making a serious offer, the candidate will absolutely take him up on it.

"I don't get paid to enforce any rules. I'm not a weyrlingmaster." He's also not a wingsecond or anything and this is probably one of the many reasons why C'sei has never climbed the dragonriding ranks. It's a casual disregard for rules that keeps him down on the totem pole. He's not the sort to offer something and then yank it back, so Ealasaid will find that flask in her hand for a drink if she chooses to take it. When it's returned to him again, if it ever leaves, he'll take a second drink and then screw the cap back into place.

"I wasn't sure about you, when you passed off this knot to me," Ealasaid admits, although her tone leans toward teasing rather than serious skepticism. With that flask in her hand, the woman takes a healthy drink (sorry, C'sei) before handing it back over to the greenrider. "I needed that," is muttered with a little shake of her head. As short-lived as her foray into rulebreaking may have been, she does cast a quick glance over her shoulder just to make sure that no one has materialized to scream at her.

"I get that a lot from women." C'sei replies, the tone of his voice is light and not altogether serious at all from the sound of it. He glances in the direction she's looking, glad to not see anyone popping out of nowhere enraged with her. And him by proxy. Actually they'd probably be just as mad at him, not that it would stop him from doing it again. "No problem. I get it." Because he's a functioning career alcoholic, not the best person to hang around.

"I'm really not surprised," Ealasaid informs him with a laugh, seemingly completely at ease now that the flask exchange has been completed. It isn't even enough to give her a buzz, but it's still some respite from the shackles in which she finds herself. There's only so long one can last in a barracks full of teenagers before alcohol is needed. It's a miracle dragonriding doesn't breed an entire continent of functioning alcoholics. "Thanks."

"They say that to me a lot too. Seems the women I run into are both unsure and unsurprised by me." He lifts a hand in a 'go figure' sort of gesture. That doesn't seem like it should even be a thing, yet here they are. C'sei's mouth twists into something resembling a smile, rueful as it is. "Good luck with your candidacy Ealasaid, I look forward to seeing if you decide to make it onto the sands." If not, maybe he'll find her at the bar afterwards~ The kitchen courtyard isn't really a place for him, so he departs, leaving the way he came and disappearing into the bowl.

"You're such an enigma," Ealasaid tells him dryly, mirth evident in the curl of her lips. "Thanks, C'sei," she answers with slightly more gravity, as though she might genuinely mean it. Or perhaps that's just lingering gratitude for his flask. As he makes to depart, she lifts one scratched palm in farewell, enjoying the open air of the courtyard a moment longer before she dives back into the kitchen fray.

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