Who

Carey, Herik, Xanthee

What

Xanthee gets hysterical in the laundry rooms, and Herik 'lends a hand'. Carey offers the verbal help.

When

It is midmorning of the seventh day of the fourth month of the eleventh turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Laundry Rooms, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 23 Jun 2017 23:00

 

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Laundry Rooms

The laundry rooms at Igen are vast, lined with barrels of varying soap concentrations and shades: darks, lights, and colors. However, it seems that some laundresses are less finicky with this rule as a peek into any of them reveals clothes in various states of cleaning are from all shades of life. The room does smell mostly pleasant with the soap, but the laundry sticks are old, worn, and smell rather of mildew. High ceilings echo the gossips of the workers here, and lines of drying laundry criss-cross overhead for when it's too wet or sandy to line-dry outside.


Standing at the back of the room at one of the barrels of laundry, Xanthee is stood dressed in a simple rust colored dress, her raven hair pulled back from her face by a kerchief tied around her head. Off to one side, away from the other couple of candidates working here, her back is facing the door. Anyone who would venture near, would here her muttering softly to herself. The words are indecipherable, spoken under her breath, as one would when reciting a list one is trying to remember.

Herik enters the laundry room, wearing a vest and shorts. Good thing too - it's a warm day already, and lugging around laundry is sweaty work as it is. The man carries a big basket in each hand, the muscles in his arms tensed as he takes them into the room, deep into the room, down to where Xanthee is. Why has he gone to her? Well, she's on her own, so she'll want some company from a fellow candidate, right? The man's steps are by no means light, and likely Xanthee will hear him before he gets near enough to her to set the baskets down with a grunt. "Sorry Xanthee, I've got yet more work for us." He rubs one of his hands, where the handle of the basket has dug in to the flesg.

Xanthee looks over her shoulder reflexively, "Huh?" and then she sees who exactly is speaking to her and her cheeks flush a lovely pink as she averts her eyes back to her work, voice holding a quavering note to it, "Y-Yes Herik! Thank you. Those baskets can go.." she trails off as her eyes dart around the room and she finally says with a flick of her hand in the direction of an unused patch of floor not too far from where she is working, "Over there." She quickly turns her back for a moment and scrubs her hands furiously on her arpon before turning back to her fellow Candidate. "So how are you liking laundry?" she asks, innocently enough as she moves to look and see if the baskets held sorted or un-sorted laundry.

Herik stops rubbing that sore hand, and turns his head to look at where Xanthee is indicating. Her blush goes unnoticed (he's a guy, he's oblivious, forgive him). "Sure." And so he'll flex his hands a few times to get some life back into the fingers, then heft the baskets over to their final resting place. Sorry Xanthee - this laundry is unsorted. But Herik isn't going anywhere, so he could probably be pressed into helping sort the items. "It's not mentally challenging, so that's a bonus," he answers her question with a grin. "Then again, what chores have been?"

Xanthee nods as she pulls over a drop cloth and spreads it over the floor directly in front of the baskets that Herik just positioned. "Is your hand ok?" she says as she notices the abraision, "I can grab the numbweed for you." she says as she begins to make her way over to the shelf where the first aid items would be located. She takes a bit of a pause to take a deep breath as if to steady herself. Her eyes close briefly, just a quick flutter before she looks back at Herik with a weak smile, waiting for his response.

"Ah," caught between masculine denial of the pain, and acceptance of the offer of help, Herik pauses, looking down at the red marks on his hand as he tries to rub them away with the other hand. No such luck. And Xanthee's already heading towards what he assumes is the numbweed, so the man relents. "If there is some, that'd be great." Her weak smile doesn't go unnoticed, though it gets a confused look from Herik. "All alright? Do you need a break?" Ever the practical one.

Happy to have an excuse to, at least temporarily, put a little bit of space betweeen her and Herik, Xanthee rushes across the room to the shelf where the numbweed is stored in a little pot right at the top. Being rather short, try as she might, she cannot reach the desired pot. She pauses a gain, her shoulders rising and falling with another deep breath being taken. Gathering her wits, Xan spies a short stool nearby and pulls it over gratefully and manages t pull down the pot of numweed cream. As she turns around, her eye start to prick and she feels the horrifying feeling of tears starting to well up right under the surface. What? Now? Of course now you ninny! Tears will only make this already boderline embaressing situation even BETTER! Try as she might, deep breathing, walking steadily, her nerves had obviously been raw and ready to spill, and when he asks her if she is ok, she whimpers softly and then replies with, "I don't think so." before succuming to the torrent of tears that seem to have broken through their dam and now are cascading her cheeks. Her breath starts to come out in hiccuping gasps.

Carey walks in from the Inner Caverns.

Happy to have an excuse to, at least temporarily, put a little bit of space betweeen her and Herik, Xanthee rushes across the room to the shelf where the numbweed is stored in a little pot right at the top. Being rather short, try as she might, she cannot reach the desired pot. She pauses a gain, her shoulders rising and falling with another deep breath being taken. Gathering her wits, Xan spies a short stool nearby and pulls it over gratefully and manages t pull down the pot of numweed cream. As she turns around, her eye start to prick and she feels the horrifying feeling of tears starting to well up right under the surface. What? Now? Of course now you ninny! Tears will only make this already boderline embaressing situation even BETTER! Try as she might, deep breathing, walking steadily, her nerves had obviously been raw and ready to spill, and when he asks her if she is ok, she whimpers softly and then replies with, "I don't think so." before succuming to the torrent of tears that seem to have broken through their dam and now are cascading her cheeks. Her breath starts to come out in hiccuping gasps. (repose)

Everything is going okay. Xanthee is getting some numbweed for Herik's achey hand, which rests in the loose grip of the other where he's been rubbing at the sore spots. Something seems a little off with Xanthee though, but he can't put his finger on it. And, all of a sudden, Herik has a girl in floods of tears on his hands, and he gapes at Xanthee as she cries and gasps. "Er-" The man looks around awkwardly, to make sure nobody else has noticed this outburst. Also, it wasn't his fault! At least, not as far as he can tell. Letting go of his hands, Herik steps closer to Xanthee, hands hovering around awkwardly for a moment before attempting to go in a comforting sort of way to the teenager's shoulder. "You wanna talk about it?"

Caught in teh grips of what is starting to have signs of a panic attack, Xanthee shrieks when Herik moves to comfort her, obviously a reflexive action, but one with enough emotional turmoil that the air directly above the raven haired candidate is full of tiny green and bronze fury as Xan's still young duo of firelizards suddenly appear and make their thoughts on the situation known. Banshee, the green, shrieks in tones that make eardrums hurt as she sweeps dangerously close to Herik, but flies back up as the more level-headed Grymm scolds her from his higher vantage point as he circles just a couple feet up over Xan's head, taking a measure of things before reacting. Xanthee has now reached the hysterics phase of a panic attack, causing her green to get even louder as she dips and dives, but never at anyone exactly. Unfortunately, one of the only surefire cures to that phase is a sharp slap to the face.

Thunk. THUNK. Thunk. Such are the sounds of laundry bags hitting the stone floor like so many dead and stuffed bodies, little puffs of dust rising into the air in ominous little clouds. The story of a Journeyman is there, writ in mud and sand and grit. Behind these travel-stained bags comes the sound of booted feet keeping time with a lusty baritone singing some dirty little ditty one ought not to sing around innocent children. But wait, what's this? Carey's face peers around the door, pale eyes sweeping the room as he smirks at the whining complaint of a small canine at his heels — oh hey, the place is occupied, white knots and all. And tears, so many tears. Perhaps a bit of lurking might reveal the reason for the awkward male and they hysterical female.

Suddenly there are fire-lizards all over the damn place, as far as he can tell. It's his turn for a reflexive reaction, hands coming up to protect his face from the potential of sharp claws and lashing tails. "Woah! Woah!!" Although nothing's made contact with him, the threat was enough to put him on edge. When he can feel that the fire-lizards aren't up in his grill any more, Herik's hands retreat, but not for long. He's seen this sort of thing before in some of the fighters in the Pit, and now his left hand - weaker hand - goes in for that slap, firm enough to hopefully sting, but not to harm. it's accompanied by a sharp "Hey!" Sorry you have to see this, Carey!

The shrieking stops abruptly at Herik's theropeudic slap as she seems to regain her breath and composure for a moment before she crumbles onto a nearby bench, her hands flying to her face as she manages a couple deep breaths. Her duo land, one on each side of her, and stand guard silently, eyeing the two young men with caution but not violence. Finally, with a wavering little squeak of a voice, Xan is finally able to speak again. "Thanks Herik. I kinda needed that. It's just the whole thing. I have so many doubts about the Hatching and what it could mean for my whole life. I don't even know if I want to Impress. And if I'm uncertain, surely the dragonets will know and it will put them off, and then my mother's legacy dies with her, and I'm a big fat failure. But I don't want to die young, like she did!" The last words are barely audible as she sinks into some hard sobs. Looks like she's finally unloading some baggage that she was obviously carrying for way too long and puts Herik and Carey in the line of fire. Sorry guys.

"Oh, dear." This could possibly be exceedingly delicate work. But at least Herik got her to stop mimicking a demented goat, for which Carey will always have love in his heart. Meanwhile, he'll kick aside his dusty laundry and slowly approach the girl, hands settled in his pockets as he watches her. "Huh. Always a dichotemy, isn't it, luv." All females are 'luv', since names often escape the lad, were he even to take a moment to learn them to begin with. "Never seen doubt stop an Impression. And I've been to a few Hatchings." The firelizards are given a long look — and Carey opts to remain standing, lest he set the creatures off again. "If it makes you feel even slightly better, my father was uncertain. And yet, he Impressed anyway." It might not be the most comforting of sentiments to express. But he'll try anyway. "D'you really think your mother would be disappointed if you chose not to take the same route as she?"

Herik is braced for some sort of immediate karma for that slap. Scratched by a fire-lizard? beaten up by an older brother? Flamed by a dragon that's somehow got into the caverns? But no vengeance comes, and the man relaxes ahair when Xanthee's screaming stops, and she speaks like a human being. "Sorry," he'll mumble even as she thanks him for the slap. Hitting a girl isn't exactly on his daily to-do list, but here we are. Now the newcomer gets eyeballed as Carey puts in his two cents on Xanthee's issues. He's got nothing much to answer about that, so he'll let her digest Carey's thoughts while he considers his own.

"That's just it. I don't know what she would have wanted, I don't remember her. I was a toddler when she passed. No one knows who my dad is, and she was mostly a loner from what I've been told." Xanthee words have a worn, almost robotic ring to them as she recounts the scant details she has. Finally looking up, her eyes are red, but drying. "I've always knew I would be asked to stand, all weyrbrats are as long as they are healthy. But I always wanted it. I don't know if I do now." One more tremulous exhale as she squares up her shoulders and regains her composure. "I feel like my life had been frozen until this moment now it's rushing ahead and I can't keep up." Maybe she should be a harper, cause that was downright poetic right there.

Carey frowns a little, and decides to settle — gingerly — upon the bench. "Ah, yes," he purrs softly, his tone mocking. "The traditions must be honored." Crossing his legs elegantly, he laces his fingers over his kneecap and raises bushy eyebrows at Xanthee. "Us weyrbrats are always the sacrificial lambs of choice." And then he smiles, impishly, at her, raising his shoulders and letting them drop in lazy dismissal of 'what's expected.' "And now, since you seem to have come unstuck, might I ask what else you like to do with yourself?" He gives Herik another glance — a 'wanna jump in here?' kind of look; he doesn't know this girl! — and offers, "I mean, you do have hobbies, skills, and interests that aren't 'dragon', don't you? Ever done things out of the Weyr, ever?"

After the disaster that was his attempt to put a comforting hand on Xanthee's shoulder, Herik is keeping his hands to himself. even though they have helped, in a sort of way. Not how he would have liked. He's not of the Weyr like these two, and their conversation is regarded with interest, even if he can't empathise with their situations. "I think we've all felt unsure one way or another. We've all been kinda thrown into this, not knowing what's gonna happen." He really doesn't know what to say about the whole unknown father issue, but there is a sadness in her eyes for the motherless situation. Perhaps not something he wants to discuss in front of the stranger that's joined them, though.

Xanthee shakes her head at Carey's list of things that she has never done. "Not really. I was always going to be a rider. It was like there was no other option. I waited for a talent to come to me, something that drew me, and nothing did. then I started wondering if nothing was coming to me, cause my talent was going to be in riding, like my only known relative. and since that couldn't happen until i was older, I just had to wait. So that's what I did." She stretches her neck gingerly to one side and an audible crunch is heard as streesed tendons twanged back into place. which illicits a little hiss of relief from Xan.

"Agreed." Carey will give Herik the point, absently buffing his nails against his soft, worn traveling shirt. "I only ended up a Tanner through lack of anything else to do with my time. And my father never did approve of encouraging weyrbrats to consider riding the first and best option. He made me go out and learn other things, in case I… " And here he gestures broadly to Xanthee. "Well, you can see what comes of not encouraging folk to know all their options. Here she is, distressed because she's thinking maybe there's more to life than the Weyr!" He's outraged on her behalf, running his hand through his hair. "It's not fair, I think. And talents don't come to you, you effin go out and try things you're interested in until you find something you want to keepworking at, silly girl!" His friendly grin hopefully takes the sting out of the scold. "C'mon, now, there are things you like to do, if you think about it."

Carey has this pep talk thing in the bag. Herik isn't chill enough for leaning right now, so he'll do a sort of awkward hovering nearby thing. "See how this standing thing works out, yeah? You've got loads of time left to work out what you wanna do long term." Assuming he's correctly judged that she is young, and doesn't just look super young. "None of us know what's gonna happen at this hatching, and most of us'll have to figure out what to do next. Myself included…assuming my dad doesn't kill me, either way." He tries for humour, with a little smile.

Seeing the stranger get upset on her behalf makes Xanthee's eye grow wide with hope, you can practially see the little pink hearts floating off her, as a rosy blush floods her cheeks, she seems to do that a lot. "You're so passionate! I've never felt that for anything. I'm really good a getting out of work I don't want to do, but that hardly counts. But you are right." and then she turns her blazing eyes towards Herik to include her fellow candidate. "You both are. I need to stop waiting and start trying stuff out. Doji keeps trying to tell me that too, but I didn't want to listen." She smiles with a little more strenght and says with a steadier voice. "Thank you guys. I am such a mess. I think I am going to go throw some cold water on my face." it probably stings because there is a slight red mark on one cheek, as well as a lot of crying induced puffiness. But before she goes, she sidles a little closer to Carey on the bench and lowers her voice to what she probably thinks is a purr. "Can I have your name kind sir, so I know who I am thinking. I am Xanthee, but my friends call me Xan." she nibbles her lower lip as she awaits his reaction.

Carey would be alarmed at all those hearts and whatnot if he didn't find the girl all too much like his own young half-sister. He almost — almost — pats her on the head the way he would his own sister, but instead opts to offer it as a way to shake hands. "Nah, I'm just not willing to let you sit around feeling sorry for yourself when you have a whole damn world to explore. I'm Carey, by the way." He introduces himself to them both. And he laughs at Herik's very reasonable points. "He's got the idea, there. Just wait and see. You Impress, well done! If not, good time to go looking for some things to get into."

"Or stand again if you feel that way," Herik tags on to Carey's observation, straight-faced. "Or…not. No right or wrong thing to do." Says he, the one who probably did the wrong thing. or feels that way, at the very least. He eyes Xanthee's face when she mentions water, and winces at the redness that could only have been caused by his hand. Hopefully that doesn't come back to bite him on the arse. "I'll catch you later, Xanthee." He'll avert his eyes at the way she sidles up close to carey, feigning interest in another candidate scrubbing clothes.

Taking Carey's offered hand, Xanthee shakes it gladly, makybe holding onto it a little bit longer than she should have. Getting up from the bench, Xan's duo of flitters rise with her and come to perch one on each shoulder. As she passes Herik, she gives him a warm smile, "I'm just so glad I'll have friends like you to share the Sands with when time comes. Thanks Herik." She says warmly as she moves on towards the door. Wait, was that an invitation, or just an observation. well your guess is as good as any because Xanthee chooses that moment to flounce out of the room.

WELL. "That was certainly… interesting." Carey is amused, very amused. He pushes himself up off the bench with a hoarse chuckle. "My job is done and — " He leans in, his grin wicked. " — good luck with that one. She's volatile in the way of all teenage girls. Enjoy your stay with her." Carey then walks out of the room, chuckling madly as he does. Poor, poor Herik, stuck in the Barracks with a girl who seems to crush on everything that moves, as evidenced by the way she kep t holding Carey's hand. Good thing he's kind of a gentleman and let her.

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