Kyriatis, Katryana


Two candidates daydream instead of doing chores. In song lyrics.

Candidate Bingo! Contains excessive musicals and a Spotify playlist.


It is midmorning of the twenty-fifth day of the fifth month of the fourteenth turn of the 12th pass. It is the fifty-fifth day of Autumn and 58 degrees. The day is dreary and overcast. A warm autumn rain is falling down in soft drizzles.


Living Caverns, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 05 Jul 2018 04:00


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Living Caverns

Grand and spacious, the cavern curves high aloft in naturally-vaulted ceiling that soothes any sense of claustrophobia. Rich woods line the cavern floor, varnished and stained a rich mahogany, while round tables scatter about candlelit and intimate. The largest table lies southerly next the sideboard, long trestles that seem oriented to providing for the Weyr's youngest. The rich blue of Azov can be seen from a distance in good weather, when the heavy stone doors covering the entrance are allowed to stand open.

The living caverns never really get quiet, but there are lulls in the period between breakfast and lunch, and those lulls are important: an opportunity for the lower caverns staff to rush in and clean things up before the whole process begins again. Candidates, of course, are ideal labour for this particular task, and thus, it's no surprise to find Kyriatis here this morning, more lingering wistfully over her broom than actively, you know, working. Her eyes keep tracking towards the exit to the bowl: perhaps she's wondering, and wondering, and wondering, and wondering, when will the hatching come?

Katryana is a little more actively sweeping than her choremate, the bristles of her broom rhythmically striking the ground. Swish, swish, swish. With a deep breath, she leans on the cleaning utensil and squints at Kyriatis daydreaming. "I see that look in your eye. You're daydreaming about the Hatching." Dreamily, she muses, "Who knows what the eggs might bring? Someone wonderful… Someone interesting…"

"A nice dragon. A good dragon." Kyriatis' wistful expression hasn't shifted, nor has she glanced away from the door, even if she does give her broom one or two desultory sweeps: working. Hard. Nothing for Assistant Headwoman Thenardier to complain about. Ruefully, she admits, "There is a hatching in my dreams. No more floors for me to sweep, there." Dramatic sigh. "Not after the hatching in my dreams."

"There are the candidates, all in white… Nobody shouts or talks too loud. Not in the hatching in my dreams," Katryana agrees wholeheartedly, twirling with her broom. Thankfully, with the amount of extra laborers they've had in here lately, there isn't too much to sweep on these floors. Just gotta look busy. "I have a dream… a dragon to Impress… to help me cope with anything." Conspiratorially, she sweeps in Kyriatis's direction, addressing the elephant in the room, "If you see the wonder of a fairy tale, you can take the future even if you fail." You know. To Impress.

Kyriatis leans on her broom rather than using it to sweep, all attempts to even try completely gone out of the window. "I have a dream," she admits. But then she stops, shaking her head. "No. Once I had dreams. Now they're obsessions. Hopes became… needs. " This admission seems to make her a little uncomfortable, and she glances up, giving Katryana a wary glance. "When this crazy wheel slows down, where will I be? Back where I started?" Please no.

If Kyriatis isn't trying anymore, Katryana won't either. Broom becomes a prop for dramatic posing and she leans on it, crossing one of her ankles beyond her other foot and doing the casual slouch thing. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. Times have been good, as an apprentice. Fast, entertaining… but what's the point if I'm concealing most of my thoughts, all of my feeling?" To the dragon gods, she wishes, "Make of our hearts one heart, make of our lives one life, from the Hatching to forever…" She flushes and ducks her head, long hair falling her face.

More soberly, but certain, somehow: "Even death won't part us then. Make our lives one life. One hand, one heart." It's probably a good thing that nobody is paying candidates too much attention this close to the hatching, because it doesn't even look like Kyriatis is working - not even a little. And while Katryana may seem embarrassed, the gardener is just determined, as if she's speaking a prayer. "Never give up hope. Never let yourself be defeated. If you tried it once… you can try again." Beat. "Just in case."

Katryana shakes her hair from her face and gives Kyriatis a sheepish grin as she rights herself, getting back to their assigned chore because she'd prefer not to spend the rest of her candidacy with a broom. "Hatching day." Sweep. "See them there." Sweep. "Little legs," sweep, "stumbling." Sweep, sweep. "Wanna say," sweep, "a dragon's name," sweep, "but there he goes… Impressing. Someone else." Another sigh. "That's my fear, y'know?"

Dutifully, because Katryana has reminded her of the chore at hand, Kyriatis begins work with her broom as well, though it can't be said she's especially… well, helpful. "Makes me feel… like a fool. Kinda sick. I'm not ready for the world out there. I keep pretending, but… I just can't hide." Sweep. Brow furrow. Sigh. Teenagers, man.

It's a sudden empathy overload for Katryana, who trudges over to friend and throws her arm over her shoulders, "C'mon, you know I said that I'd be Standing by your side. Your path's unbeaten, all uphill, but you can meet it." She gestures dramatically with her other hand, still holding the broom. "Imagine, a whole new world. Unbelievable sights! Indescribable feeling! Soaring, tumbling, freewheeling through an endless diamond sky on dragon's wings." The thought leaves her breathless with excitement, or maybe that's just her holding a broom aloft for an extended period of time.

Kyriatis leans in to that shoulder-hug, letting out a long, low breath that is both sigh of nervousness and sigh of contentment. "Mmm," she agrees, giving Katryana a warmer smile. "A whole new world. A dazzling place I never knew. Because… when did we last let our hearts decide?" Because they clearly have, logic and reason be damned. "No more talk of darkness, right? Forget these wide-eyed fears. We're here." Her chin lifts; her smile broadens.

"Right!" Katryana nods definitively, loosening her arm and returning the smile. "We've got to have welcoming thoughts for these Hatchlings. I was thinking: I'm here, with you, beside you, to guard you and to guide you. Do you think it's alright, to leave those thoughts with tiny dragons? D'you think it's alright? I'm afraid they'll have too many people thinking things at them that night." She peels herself away and back to the pile of crumbs and sand, brushing it into the dustpan she's got nearby.

Kyriatis fiddles about with her broom, still not doing all that much that's productive, though at least she looks like she's working. "I think that sounds beautiful," she says, sounding a little emotional. "I'm sure it'll work. I'm glad you've thought of something… I am not throwing away my shot at this, you know? This one has to count."

Covered in dust as she is, Katryana sure does look particularly young, scrappy, and potentially a bit hungry — that's probably just because she's a teenager, though. Those things always look hungry. "What do you think it feels like, to Impress? I imagine you just look into their eyes and the sky's the limit. You're helpless. Down for the count. Drowning in them. I've felt the mindvoices of three dragons and it's about made my heart go, 'boom'!" Her stomach gurgles and she looks to the beginnings of lunch being set out, which makes her sweep a bit faster.

"Oooh," breathes Kyriatis. "Just like that, I think. It's… about to change our lives, isn't it? One way or another. One day more." Beat. "I mean, or so. Another day, another destiny. Will we even live until that day? How can I live…" She breaks off, sniffing at the air; lunch has, for her, also broken into the dramatics. "I'm hungry." How… prosaic.

"One more day. What, do you hear the dragons hum?!" Katryana exclaims. "Well." Breathing, Kat, breathe. "Never know your luck when there's a free for all. We'll discover what our Hatchlings in eggs have in store. One more day. Metaphorically." Her tummy gurgles again, in accord with Kyri. "Hot lunch!" She licks her lips. "It's good for all the bunch."

"One day more," agrees Kyri. Or three. But who can tell, at this point? 'Soon' is so relative. Her mouth twists upwards at the corners, a smile lurking there despite the seriousness of her thoughts, otherwise. "What do you think lunch is, today? It could be stew." (ooh ooh ooh). "As long as it's not kidney of a runnerbeast, or liver of a cat. I… not that I think they do that. But as long as it's not, I could eat a runnerbeast. Metaphorically."

"I'm sure they occasionally fill up the sausages with this and that," the healer-turned-candidate offers pragmatically. "It would be wasteful to do otherwise. 25% of human body weight is organs, after all, with 16% of that being the skin. I can't imagine it's too different for runners." Literally no one wanted to know that, Katryana. Equal parts wistful and serious, she turns to Kyriatis, "We must be brave, come what may. Can we Impress? Is there a way? I've made my peace; I hold no grudge if I don't." The broom is put aside, deeming this floor as good as it's gonna get.

Kyriatis hesitates, giving Katryana a long look… and then wrinkles her nose. "I don't think I needed to know that," she says, not that it stops her stomach from rumbling. "Make it fast!" Lunch, presumably. "It's my gut I can't ignore." She glances towards the buffets, and the meal readily being laid out. "Brooms down?"

"Hunger has a way with you!" Katryana states dramatically, swooning. Melodrama, much? "There's no telling what you're going to do when the brooms are down." She waggles a finger, warning discretion. "Let's not get carried away! If those eggs are gonna hatch tomorrow, we gotta make sure there's some left over for them. Now come on, Kyri Sunshine, it's time for you to have lunch." She takes the other girl by the arm, joking, "You make a charming armful."

"You," says Kyriatis, by way of return, arm linked with Katryana, "are ultra. Ultra." Ultra what? It must be some new teenage slang. More importantly: "Food, glorious food. Hot sausage and mustard… maybe? That would be nice. Food, magical food!" So much for the broom, now abandoned: it's all about food now.

The slang(?) gets an odd look from Kat but she shrugs it off, ticking off her priorities as she marches in time with Kyriatis, "Food, sausage, food, food, food, bacon, food tomato and food. That might be enough." Her stomach grumbles in accord. "Always look on the bright side of chores, huh? Works up an appetite." She releases her friend to load a plate with wonderful food, though bacon is nowhere to be found. Stew made with fish — that's her favorite dish! — is loaded into a bowl with a side of crusty bread, though she pauses where some steaming meat pies have been laid out. "Ugh, I almost regret getting stew now. Look at all them pies! Eminently practical and yet appropriate as always!"

Dubiously: "Awful lot of fat." Kyriatis seems content enough to bypass the pies and focus on the rest of her food… though it may have something to do with Katryana's comments on offal and innards earlier; in comparison, the fish seems quite safe. Filled plate in hand, she hesitates on her way to find them a table. "I've… heard it said. That people come into our lives for a reason, bringing something we must learn. And, ok, we've known each other forever, but… I'm still glad we've had this experience together. Come what may. Ok?"

Katryana, who has already headed off toward a table, throws on the breaks at the sudden sentimentality, almost causing stew to splash over the edge of her bowl as she twirls to face her. "Aww, Kyri! Well, I don't know if I believe that's true, but whatever way our stories end, I know you have re-written by being my friend." Beam, smile. She'd hug the girl if it wouldn't cover them both in food. Instead, she heads off again, beckoning her friend over to the table. "If I don't Impress, give it to 'em good, Kyriatis." Her plates are places down on the table and she flops into the seat, "We're all worn out and done up. The sooner we Stand, the sooner we start… whatever is it we're going to start."

Kyriatis stays where she is, at least a few seconds more; she looks a little rueful and a little embarrassed, but more than a little pleased by Katryana's response. It takes her a few seconds more, but then she pulls into action, following the other girl. "Right," she agrees, setting her plate down. "Let's get underway," she agrees. "No more of all of this… we could be dancing towards disaster, but at least if we keep on we soon will know. There's no time left for wasting, is there?" She looks, abruptly, less appetised. "I think I need to go outside."

"We could be dancing to disaster, but I get the feeling we don't care!" Katryana yells after her fleeing friend as nerves get the better of her, trying to be encouraging. With a sigh, she shovels a spoonful of stew into her mouth, sulking. "Empty chairs at empty tables."

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