Rocio, Niamyth, Talya, Turahaimajusuth, Evka, Saetyroith, Katrya, Vinodestroth


Weyrlings get new, fresh haircuts to go with their new, fresh dragons. (With special guest barbers P'quil and S'nar!)


It is evening of the seventh day of the sixth month of the fourteenth turn of the 12th pass. It is the seventh day of Winter and 50 degrees. The winter rain drums the weyr pleasantly throughout the night.


Weyrling Barracks, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 09 Jul 2018 04:00


rocio_default.jpg niamyth_default.jpg talya_default.jpg turahaimajusuth_default.jpg evka_default.jpg saetyroith_default.jpg katrya_default.jpg

"Oh, he know it won't hurt me, except it will hurt my social life for the rest of weyrlinghood if you leave it hacked up in that terrible cut you gave her."


Weyrling Barracks

Natural entropy lies restrained by sheer force of will within the chaotic spiral of Southern's weyrling-barracks. The large entry hollows out into an immense common area at the front of the barracks, where sustenance can be procured for both sides of the lifebond: tables are typically set out with at least the trimmings for sandwiches, and often carcasses lie in the hollowed pit for fresh weyrlings to carve chunks of meat for their new lifemates. Beyond, the couches are set within a U-shape around a long pool, spring-fed, large enough to bathe growing dragons.
Heavy tapestries line the stone walls towards the rear of the barracks, while space is at a premium towards the front: shelves and pegs hold leathers and tools, books and useful trinkets of the dragonriding trade. The narrow-point of the U branches into two hallways: one for the candidate barracks, and one for the weyrlingmaster's office.

Ah, the age old tradition of weyrling haircuts has commenced on this rainy afternoon. Inside the barracks is a group of junior weyrlings in the middle of getting their locks cut to an appropriate length for their tenure under Rocio's watchful eye. And guess what? The Weyrlingmaster isn't the one giving the haircuts this afternoon. It's her assistants who are doing the job while she just, you know, supervises. "There ya go! That ain't so bad is it?" she says, patting a now short haired blonde gal on the shoulder. "Who's next? Step right up!"

Talya had absolutely no reason to get out of this haircut tradition and while she obviously did not mind, Turahaimajusuth is eyeing the ceremony dubiously. The pair are towards the back of the ground with the dragon wrapped around his lifemate protectively, and not because he is scared of her being hurt or anything— well, actually, it's exactly that. Just not physically hurt. His eyes are tinged red, whirling ever faster the closer that they are running out of weyrlings to shear. "Uh, go on in front of me," she urges one of her other weyrlings with a glance down to her lifemate. "Ma'am," she raises her voice more loudly for the Weyrlingmaster. "Is there a way to opt-out of the haircuts for the sole purpose of possibly causing severe harm to our lifemates and, in association, the rest of the barracks for having to put up with him?" Tura's had meltdowns. Tura's already probably down for some of his meltdowns.

Evka gives a groan as she watches the line shortening in front of her, hands running through a length of hair that here shortly, will no longer exist. She's trying to keep it together, for Saetyroith's sake as much as her own. But Zingari women don't cut their hair lightly, and this is something that's been drilled into Evka since birth. "Do you think they'll make me take it that short?" She asks whomever is nearby, pointing at a girl with a newly minted 'pixie' cut. She's near to tears at the thought and unsure how she feels about being….mutilated this way. It's both tradition and her inner fashionista at play here.

Katrya's on the sidelines of this debacle and is considering the effectiveness of hiding under her lifemate. « Come, now, it grows back. » Vinodestroth is quite pragmatic for, you know, a literal infant. « You know you're being silly, I know you're being silly, so let's get on with it, shall we? » He grabs her by the sleeve and marches forward, leaving the girl following, chagrined. "Me, ma'am," she mumbles, wrapping her hands protectively around her hair. "Not too short?" The pixie-cut blonde makes her eyes widen even further. "Not that short? Please?"

"Talya, take this opportunity to communicate and explain what's goin'. You gotta let Turahaimajusuth know you ain't gonna get hurt, that it's what y'all gotta do." Rocio straightens and folds her arms across her chest as she moseys closer to the brownlings. "There are things you ain't gonna wanna do as a dragonrider and, yet, you still gotta do 'em. Just be gentle about it and very clear about what exactly a haircut is." She tosses her chin toward Turahaimajusuth and then glances over at Evka, "You can go above the shoulders but not an inch longer than that." Since Ro's not going to budge on the matter. Niamyth, the Mama of the group, shares some images of Rocio when she was a weyrling and how short her blonde hair was at the time. "See? I did it. This is the least of your worries, y'all. This ain't tough." After Katrya steps forward, S'nar, one of the AWLMs, gets the shears ready and looks over at Rocio. "Like I said, just above the shoulders." Snip, snip.

Talya shares a look with her lifemate briefly before a reluctant one returns to Rocio, giving the Weyrlingmaster a pained sigh. "Oh, he know it won't hurt me, except it will hurt my social life for the rest of weyrlinghood if you leave it hacked up in that terrible cut you gave her." The young woman jerks her chin over to the poor blonde. She meets the agitated eyes of her lifemate again, squinting at him as if trying to pass on just what she thought about haircuts. «I don't care if it grows back,» comes the whining nagging voice out loud to his siblings, perhaps catching onto Vinodestroth's logic. «It is going to look terrible now.» And then Niamyth had to go and share the Weyrlingmaster's old cut, making him rear back, wings spread in outrage, and give a trumpet in outrage. Talya winces, putting a hand on his head to try to calm him down. "Uh… Can I get it cut by the least shakiest hands of the bunch?" she asks Rocio instead with a sheepish grin. "They'll make it look good, Tura," she assures him.

Evka looks at Rocio as if the woman were some sort of saint, because she really is for that order. Evka had been dreading the lopping of her lengthy locks and not having to go above the shoulder at least leaves her still looking like a girl. And long enough she can put a bun in it. "Yes ma'am, understood." «You'll look fine, I think.» Saetyroith comments after the mental image is shared. «There are better things to throw tantrums over Tura, yours isn't going to die from this procedure or anything. Right?»

Snip, snip! Katrya's got her eyes closed tight as it happens, trying her best not to twitch under the shearing instrument. The sound, especially! It's got her making a high-pitched distress noise under her breath. « See? It's not the end of the world. It grows back. » Vinodestroth seems quite proud of himself, sitting primly and proudly. « It's my understanding that fashion changes, doesn't it, Turahaimajusuth? You'll have plenty of opportunity to shape yours, my friend. And if it's truly that dreadful, well, they could always just shave it all off. »

Rocio will save the 'you ain't gotta social life anymore' speech for when Turahaimajusuth is less upset. She quirks a honey colored brow at him when he rears back in a huff and can practically feel the glowbugs of Niamyth's mindscape brightening to help calm him down. "Simmer just a bit, Turahaimajusuth. Talya will look good no matter what kinda haircut she has." A beat, "Or how crooked it is or isn't." A smirk follows and she motions for the brownling to step forward so P'quil can work his magic shears. "Now c'mere and prove me right." As this is going on, Rocio passes by Evka for the moment and admires her pretty tresses before taking a gander at Katrya's new look. "There! Ain't bad at all. Right, Vinodestroth?" She'd elbow bump him if she wasn't already busy watching Talya over there.

Talya has to untangle herself from her dragon who really just does NOT want this to happen, because there are some terrible haircuts in here! The woman doesn't seem too concerned about the haircut, only for her lifemate and preventing an outburst. "See, even Evka is going to go through with it. If she is doing it, then I can too right?" This seems to make the brown consider, sitting back on his haunches to look towards the other brown pair. This seems to do the trick, though he still seems a little agitated, but still manages to shoot a glare in his brother's way at the shaving comment. «No shaving! I will not let her leave the barracks until it is fully grown again if so!» Finally free from the brown, Talya trudges forward to P'quil. Unfortunately the assistant is going to have a hovering brown dragon right nearby, probably judging every snip that is done. "Yeah, if you can get it as long as you can possibly go… Or at least straight."

Evka is inching closer and closer to the front of her own line and when she makes it to the front, she still ends up squeaking a little when she catches sight of those shears. «Just another adventure my love, let us be on with it!» Sighing, she nods at her brown and takes her place in the chair. "Please, leave it as long as is allowed." Because just above the shoulder is something Evka can handle for sure.

Vinodestroth's static buzzes with approval on a wide band when S'nar steps away, « Much, much more practical! » Through his lens, Katrya pulls an image from the noise and background chatter of his mind and groans, even before she's run her hands through her new cut. "I haven't had my hair this short since I was a little kid," she laments melodramatically when she does. "It just ends here." « Yes. Yes it does. Things generally do end where they end. »

Snip, snip! Rocio watches as P'quil does a decent job of cutting Talya's hair at a shoulder length display. "Ohhhh, nice…" she says to the AWLM, who looks mighty pleased with his skills. Compared to a few other weyrlings, her haircut doesn't look half bad! Now it's Evka's turn and Rocio turns her attention upon the other brownling with a toothy grin. "Come on over, Evka. S'nar here will do the honors." The greenrider steps out of the way and off to the side where she can get a good view of the shears in the AWLM's hand. Then… snippity snip! The deed is done and the Weyrlingmaster is pat-patting Evka on the shoulder before turning around to regard the others. "Well? Y'all ain't screamin' so I assume you're gonna make it."

Talya holds her breath throughout the entire thing, as if hoping that if she doesn't move it will turn out the best possible. Turahaimajusuth's anxiously whirling eyes are staring a hole at P'quil as the man does the clipping. When it's done, Talya just gets up as if nothing happened and flicks several pieces of her discarded locks from her shoulder. "Huh. Uh, it actually feels like I lost a lot of weight. Does it pass muster for you, Tura?" She turns to regard the dragon, who is back on his haunches to look at her in the face. She makes sure to ruffle out her hair, probably on his insistence. «It'll do,» he finally snorts out. «You should get some products to help shine and style your hair too.» Meltdown averted at least! Whatever tension Talya had suddenly melts away with a sigh. "We'll see about that after most of weyrlinghood is finished. May be useless to do anything with it but keep it short during training." Her hand self-conciously does go sweeping at the empty space her hair had been.

Evka too, keeps her eyes closed as the sheers are applied to her hair. She's got enough of a view from Saetyroith's vision, something they've been playing at testing the last day or so. «Won't those just make getting ready for things take longer?» Saetyroith is all about looking good, but there comes a point where utility must matter over frills and frockeries. When she feels S'nar finish his job, she peeks through her fingers to the mass of wavy brown hair on the floor. The length from shoulder to waist just lays there, as if it'd never been attached to her in the first place. Nervously, she runs har hands through her hair, and it stops at the mid-point between shoulder and jaw. The lightness of it feels good but there's a sentimentality there that has her welling up into tears….just a little. She dashes them away and moves for the next person. "At least I don't look like a boy." She says, taking Saetyroith's mental image of herself as comfort. "Right?"

Katrya breaths along with that collective sigh of relief when Tura doesn't flip. She toes at the hair on the ground, anxiously drawing hands through her hair and shaking it out to get any free bits gone. She ducks down and grabs a decent handful ("For keepsies! Commemoration!") of her discarded hair, shuffling away to her dragonet with a hand still in her now-shortened hair. "You were right," she admits to her dragon, who's nosing the loose hair in her grasp with curiosity.

"It'll feel weird for the first day or two." Rocio admits as she recalls the sensation of getting that much hair chopped off. Her own blonde locks are currently collected into a braided updo to keep everything out of view on purpose. That and she's not one to style and coif her own hair on a good day! Evka is then on the receiving end of an approving smile as the Weyrlingmaster passes by, and then it's Katrya's turn to get a nod of approval. "Congratulations, gals. Y'all survived the first grueling chore of weyrlinghood. Now if you'll excuse me," She glances over her shoulder at the snivelling pixie cut greenling. "I've gotta move it on down the line." To "supervise" more haircuts and to soothe some nerves~

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