It's spring, which brings storms. And what are smelly little Candidates to do when their scent proves unwelcome among many, but escape to the Archives, where books don't complain? Mayte is sitting in a pool of light, visible from the entrance of the Archives, pouring over a book, while a pile is neatly stacked next to her - so neatly that the corners even align. Anyone who may be tracking would be well able to follow the scent of latrines that still lingers behind the Candidate, the tail-end of an odour she hasn't quite managed to get rid of.

Selaine is there, too, just as smelly as any other Candidate that was forced to do the dirty work that others usually do. The squeaking of wood can be heard as feet attempt to climb the rickety wooden ladder to go up to the top shelf. Dust comes off onto her fingers as she scans the books for something of interest. History of the Weyr, of dragons, anything. Grabbing a couple, she hugs them on her way down and plops down near Mayte. "What're you reading?" Selaine asks, glancing curiously over at the book the older girl's reading as she sets hers down.

Not a face that's frequently seen in the land of books and learning, but there it is anyway: Thierry, entering the archives. He looks warily about at the relatively unknown space, frowning when his gaze settles on Mayte and Selaine. Since he can't immediately see what he's looking for, the candidate makes a beeline to them, peering into every revealed nook and cranny as he goes. "Hey," it's a hello, and an 'I need something' at the same time, "you guys seen Zeyta?"

There is noise. Noise that draws Mayte's attention and a brief scowl at Selaine - hey, the darkhaired Candidate smells like a toilet, how does one expect her mood to be? - "Something," is her answer. There's no attempt to move the book forward for Selaine's elucidation, and Mayte doesn't ask about what Selaine's picked for literature. And then there's Thierry; Mayte's jaw works for a moment, but she replies reasonably enough, "No, I haven't seen her," though that jaw slowly cracks into a sly grin for some reason. Then eyes narrow at the poor boy, "Don't see you in here often." Caustic.

Pages are opened as Selaine waits for Mayte's answer, only to purse her lips at the girl's reply. Sensing her mood, Selaine decides to not ask anymore questions and turns her attention to the book she had just opened. Until a familiar voice is heard. Looking up, she sees Thierry enter and raises an eyebrow at him. "Ditto." is her reply after Mayte reports not having seen Zeyta. And the comment that had been on her lips is made by Mayte. There's a curious glance from the youngest Candidate in the room as she waits to see his reply.

"Cos I ain't in here often," Thierry replies to Mayte. Perhaps the ex-Vintner's soaked up all the negative energy in the room, because he seems breezy enough as he perches his butt on the edge of Mayte's table. His nose wrinkles as he gets a whiff of Mayte, but he's learnt enough to hold his tongue. Instead, he gives Selaine a narrow-eyed look, as disapproving as ever. "Thought Zeyta mighta been in here. She said I'd find her here."

Oh right. The one time Mayte's not in the mood for it, Thierry's as happy as a firelizard with a steak. She snorts a little and glowers as the boy perches on her reading nook (fancy Vintner term for 'table'). Any response to Selaine is lost as Mayte leans back into her chair and huffs, a breezy tone that somehow ends hard, "Try misfiling a book, or not being able to find a section. She'll find you fast enough." Not cranky in the least. And in case anyone was fast enough to peek over, Mayte quickly reaches out to dog-ear, then shut the book on a section detailed "Cleaning: If You Fall into A Latrine." Which, c'mon, is sort of what happened.

Smartass comment, as always. With that, Selaine goes back to her book, eyes scanning the first few sentences but not quite taking it in as she's a bit distracted with the other two's conversation. Not knowing the wingrider in question well enough, Selaine refrains from making any comments about her. There's a quick glance at the book Mayte's just closed with an eyebrow raise before going back to her own. Better not to ask.

"Huh." Mayte's suggestion, however sarcastic it may have been, seems to sink in with Thierry as being a legitimate brownrider-lure. "Oi, newbie." That's you, Selaine! The teen beckons to her with a curl of his index finger. "You wanna go put a book back in the wrong place for me? See if you cain't rouse the wrath of the Weyr's prettiest brownrider?" Thi grins down at Mayte, winnking at her. "Vinegar," is all he says to her.

Mayte looks entirely surprised that Thierry seems to be taking her suggestion seriously, but doesn't back down. A look over at Selaine as Thierry offers the poor girl as unwitting lure for Zeyta's wrath. "Don't do it," is Mayte's advice, "I don't know if Thierry can distract her long enough to keep her from shouting at you." Which is silly, because Zeyta doesn't shout. And back to Thierry, "What about vinegar? It's always vinegar with you." Way to miss the point, Mayte: "For the Barracks, for the linens in the Barracks," okay, maybe that wasn't Thierry, but Mayte's going full-steam, "And now just… vinegar. What about it? In my klah? My wine is turning to vinegar? What?"

Selaine does her best to hold back the sigh that was just about to escape when Thierry addresses her. "I have a name, y'know. And it's not 'newbie.'" An irritated glance is given to addresser. Even with Mayte advising against doing what Thierry said, she was going to say no anyway. "And no, I don't. You can do it if you want to find her so bad." A wrinkle of her nose, even as she looks over at Mayte, who suddenly goes off with Thierry's one word phrase. There's a bit of blinking going on before Selaine interjects quietly. "For the smell…. Vinegar helps." Her voice is soft, not wanting to get her going even more. Though the younger girl would have been more than happy to just listen Mayte keep going at Thierry….

Dark eyes focus down on Mayte, squinting in the face of her doubt of his abilities to distract certain women. "If she comes outta the woodwork, I got it," Thierry reassures both May and Selaine, who he looks up at with a quirk of his brow. "You're newbie. Just like she," a slightly grubby index finger is pointed at Mayte, "is boozy, and Prym is firebush." When the youngest of them all offers an explanation for the solution that tipped Mayte's scales, he smirks. "Whaddya know. I was trying to help. I'll wash y'hair for you in the lake, May-May." He waggles his brows, and it may be hard to tell if he's being serious or not since his tone and expression remain somewhat neutral.

Mayte would totally join abraiding Thierry but she's only given to hearing the last of Selaine's comments. For a moment, Mayte looks about ready to reply to the poor girl, except Thierry's distracted her again: "At least call me something like Wino, or anything more respectable than 'boozy'," she grouses, taking the unlikely title of Ruining Her Own Point. The offer earns a wrinkled nose and associated look of horror, "Ew. That'll happen around the Never Turn." And Selaine is there, a breath of sanity amongst the three of them: "Thank you for the tip," Mayte tells her in moderately dignified tones. Ignoring that the boy made the suggestion initially: "Can I add it to make a paste, or just, like, bathe in it?" Because who doesn't want a pool full of vinegar?

This time, Selaine makes it a point to sigh at Thierry's reply. It seems pointless to try and argue with him over how he addresses her. There's a bit of eye-rolling at his suggestions to Mayte. Thank goodness the older girl has enough sense to disregard it, whether or not he was serious. A smile is directed Mayte's way, "No problem." At her question, Selaine knits her eyebrows together. "Well, as it's on your body… Just add a little to a bowl or bucket of water and use a towel. That'd probably be the best and easiest way."

Thierry shakes his head at Selaine's suggestion. "No. That ain't right. Been there, done that… trust me." He fixes a crooked grin on Mayte. Can she trust him? "Getcha vinegar in a pail, and use a sponge, rag, whatever. Put it on straight, no diluting shit. You need it to work proper, yeah? So use it straight. Then get into the water and wash it off. Just don't get it on, y'know…" He wiggles two fingers at her boobs, then points one further down. "Stings like a bitch."

You know who's eminently more sensible now? Mayte listens intently to Selaine, "And just work it into my hair?" There's cause for momentary worry: "It won't make my hair go white, will it?" Thierry is on the receiving end of a dirty look, and a snark, "You gotten it on your," a finger waves at Thierry's moobs-area, "enough times to tell me?" Still, there's a faint gleam of grin at the tail end of her sharp smile, "Cuz I heard," and this is for both Thierry and Selaine, "That acidic fruitjuice works good too." Confirm? Deny? Mayte is awaiting votes, here, leaning back to listen.

There's a look over at Thierry and an eyebrow raise. With a look back over at Mayte, she adds, "If it's your hair, you don't really need to dilute it too much. You can add more vinegar if you don't mind smelling like it for a while… but I guess that's better than smelling like…" The younger girl lets her sentence trail off before adding a nod. "The acidity is what does the trick, so vinegar's as good as it gets. Better not to use vinegar without diluting it some." A glance at Thierry. "It might irritate your skin if you don't."

"Like shit." Thierry has no qualms about finishing off Selaine's sentence. "Mebbe you and I oughta have a little experiment, boozy, see who’s got the more sensitive tits." He pats his own flat chest. "Ain't nothing wrong with straight-up vinegar. Ma used to make me wash in it all the time I'd come home stinkin'." He shrugs, fixing Selaine with a look for challenging his advice. "Newbie don't know shit with her cushy upbringing. Holders dunno what it's like to hide from guards in the midden." He stands up, sweeping a hand through his hair as he looks back at Mayte. "Your choice though, May. Y'can listen to her and go around half-stinking, or you can listen to me and go around not stinking."

Who knew there was so much contention about vinegar? Mayte doesn't speak until both sides have presented their arguments and huffs. A wave of one long, odorous hand waves away Thierry's commentary of his own physique, while the girl grins mischievously. "Well, now we know why you know so much about vinegar," is directed at the boy, while the girl gets a little smile; instead of answering her directly, Mayte proposes, "I could always just wait for sandsoap to take the stink away, right? An' no stinging involved." There's a brief, slightly artificial 'oh' of remembering: "Hey, Tee -" Yup, Thierry gets a nickname now, "You could always check the Dustbowl for Zeyta. I seen her there a couple of times…"

More eye-rolling at Thierry's response. "Your skin might be tough enough for that but what if hers isn't?" Stuck-up bazaar boy… Selaine resists sticking her tongue out like the child she sometimes likes to act like. Mayte's smile is returned with one of her own. "Vinegar would probably work better. I can help you with just the right mix so it won't stink too much. Sandsoup will take TURNS."

"Do whatever you want, May-May. You ain't sleeping next to me so you can stink o'shit as much as ya like." Thierry shrugs, though he does perk up at her suggestion of where to find Zeyta… until he remembers where the Dustbowl is. "Can't go there. I know where else I can look, though." One idea sparks another, and with a saucy salute to the two ladies, he turns on his heel to stalk on outta there, shoulders hunched. Learning places give him the creeps.

Mayte shrugs slightly at Selaine and shakes her head, "I've been doused with wine before, and you wouldn't believe how it can smell after a few hours. This should wear off too, and it won't take Turns." Thierry's sleeping accommodations doesn't even get a batted eyelash, "Fine, then. Just make sure your neighbour doesn't get latrines duty either." Threat? Warning? She watches Thierry march out and huffs, "He'd better not go to the bazaar, or he'll be the one smelling like crap." That's Mayte's clever comeback, and now there's Selaine to consult: "What about one of Sacitca's soapy things? Does she have something that could work?"

Selaine wrinkles her nose slightly at the mention of dried wine smell. "Oh… I can relate. Though I wasn't the one doused…" And dear Faranth does that smell. Thierry's departure merely extracts a nod in his direction as he leaves. A glance over at Mayte and a small laugh. The question about the perfumist leaves her pondering, "It might mask the smell, but it wouldn't get rid of it, I don't think…Then it might just be a mixture of the two different smells… and that can't be very pleasant."

Mayte's huff sounds suspiciously like a chuckle, shaking her head, "The stench of wine gone off… you can't miss it," though from her tone, Mayte misses it just a little. The mask of perfume sounds like, "A cheat, you mean. Like, it wouldn't really work in a long term." Ergo, Mayte is dissatisfied, "Well, that won't work at all." The girl rises to her feet and tucks her previous reading under one arm, "I'd better figure this out before the eggs hatch. Don't want a dragon ignoring me just cuz I smell awful." And for the flippancy of her words, there's a sense of urgency and awkwardness as Mayte takes a couple of steps to the door, pauses, and looks towards Selaine, "Can you give me a hand with that?" Humility was never Mayte's strong point, but she'll try!

Selaine nods at Mayte's description. "Most likely not." Perfumes are only meant to last so long anyway… The younger Candidate watches as Mayte takes her book and laughs softly at the comment. At her question, Selaine grins. "Sure!" With that, she gets up, too, and grabs some of her own reading material before following Mayte out the door in pursuit of better smelling solutions.