Mayte, Zalara, and Veresch


So, a Candidate, an Apprentice, and a Messenger get into a pool…


25th day of the third month of the first Turn of the 12th Pass


Igen Weyr Public Baths

OOC Date


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Public Baths

Stout walls have been erected around several naturally formed pools, serving to provide a semblance of privacy and protection from the harsh wind and sand. Above the pools, well cleaned walkways criss-cross beneath tiled arches and descend with a stairway or two leading down to each pool to provide one means of slip-free access through the area. Surrounding the pools there are benches, receptacles to put used clothing and towels in, and areas to get sweetsand and towels from - if you didn't bring your own.

A long day of chores can send anyone creaking to the hot baths, but a long day of chores in the rain? Mayte is sitting in one of the baths close to the back, up to her lower lip in hot water. Some other Candidates ring around the pool, a sort of staring contest having developed. It's quiet. Too quiet. Until Mayte bursts out philosophically, "Do dragons really like rain that much? I mean, it can't be that much fun to fly in." That earns her a couple of dirty looks, but Mayte's busy letting little laps of hot water crest against her chin again.

Zalara is tired and sweaty as she comes into the baths. She moves towards the back and numbly undresses before she gets into the water. She sinks all the way in and goes under. It's a couple of moments before she comes back up and pushes her hair out of her face. She sits close to Mayte and she sighs softly, "What a day huh?"

Mayte doesn't notice Zalara's entrance until the girl's fully in the bath. Oh hai, bath-neighbour. "That's one way to put it," the Candidate replies, "It's not so bad when you don't have to go out into it." A look over Zalara - or what is above the water, "It's gotta be better when you're next to the forge, right?" Is that longing in Mayte's voice?

Zalara leans back against the edge of the baths and she hmms softly, 'Oh well it's hot next to the forge and it does keep the damp away, but it's still hard work. I had to work the billows all day today. My arms are all sore."

Alright, well that puts a small grin on Mayte's face as she leans back again, "At least you're in the dry. They keep sending us out to run, when swimming would be more appropriate." A psst from one of the other Candidates has Mayte waving a hand, "It's Zalara. She's cool." And evidently that's all that needs to be known. "You been getting any breaks lately, Zalara?" Mayte wonders, "Gone to see the new eggs?" Since that's sort of a huge topic lately.

Zalara nods, "Maybe so, but I would almost rather be outside and doing that." She waves to the candidates, "I do get some breaks for water and such, but not many." She shakes her head, "Not yet, I've been busy."

Mayte snorts quietly, "And I'd rather be inside." There's a long, languorous stretch where she holds her arms over her head, water sluicing down her arms. "Though when it's nice, it's actually a lot of fun." One shrug as both Mayte's arms splash back into the water. "You should take a moment to see 'em," is the young woman's advice, "They're colourful. Really interesting this Hatching. And," for a moment, Mayte looks over at Zalara with a grin, "You also get to see what a gold egg looks like."

Zalara smiles, "Maybe if I was outside all day I'd feel different." She nods, "I'll be sure to go see them when I get a moment. I heard that you were a candidate, congratulations."

The analysis gets a thoughtful look from Mayte, "I guess there's no perfect medium for things like that, except the perfect day." Still, the girl looks cheerful and explains, "And with Spring here, we should get more and more of those!" The congratulations gets a reasonably modest grin, "Thanks. It was pretty shocking, to be honest." The other Candidates' voices rise in argument for a moment, and Mayte stares at them before turning back to Zalara: "So, what new is with you? Made some interesting jewelry lately? Fixed a good flamethrower? OH!" Subject ahoy: "Do you have a lot more flamethowers, now that the Weyrleader isn't letting the weyrwomen fly in Threadfall?"

Zalara chuckles, "Even on a perfect day it's still gonna be hot in the forge, but I'm getting more used to the heat. I know and soon summer will be here and we can go swimming again. I can't wait." She looks over at the other candidates and then back to Mayte, "Not making jewelry much, but really putting my all into the flamethrowers and getting them repaired. Oh sure, ground crew still needs them."

Evidently Mayte's little passing on of the news of the Weyrwomen not flying against Thread is not sotto voce enough for the other pool-goers who give her dirty looks, aided by the shushing of the other kids in this pool. Mayte just rolls her eyes and replies, "It's not like the fact's been missed or anything." So, back to the Smith apprentice at hand. Mayte eyes Zalara with interest: "Didja hear that Herder got slammed last Threadfall because there was no Queen's wing flying?" Gossiping, or is the Candidate watching for the girl's reaction?

Zalara looks over at the others and she shrugs, "I'm of two minds about it. The weyrwomen do need to be kept safe since they are the only ones that can make new dragons, but they are leaders and obviously there leadership is needed. And it's not like they are limiting other women from fighting if they are greenriders." She nods, 'I did hear that. It seems like perhaps they should have tried to phase out the goldriders more slowly instead of just pulling them out."

Evidently, 'fair and balanced' isn't quite what Mayte was looking for, as she sits back with an audible splash. Still, she considers, nodding slowly: "I think it's reaction to the Senior Queen in High Reaches dying but," and here Mayte pauses to think before she speaks, "but you're right about keeping them safe." Nevermind that gleam in her eye, Mayte does try to counter with, "But when Thread falls, don't they need every dragon out there?" Annnnd maybe Mayte's arguing to the wrong listener. She will concede that, "If it has to happen, phasing them out seems like a better way to go about it. Makes it easier on everyone, y'know?" Because collectively, Mayte and Zalara understand Wing Formations.

Zalara nods, "Probably right it does have to do that with that. I'm sure that there was lots that went into their decision, like stuff that we don't know about. I'm sure they need every fighting dragon that can up there, but if there are no more golds then there are no more fighting dragons. Perhaps in time they'll relax it, but the other wings are supposed to be good enough so that the golds should only have to flame small clumps of it. Instead of punishing the goldriders they should focus on being better riders."

Mayte sits back and mphs slightly, looking a bit thoughtful. Eventually, she comes back with, "I thought it was the Weyrleader's call," but after that Mayte quiets, letting her fingers float to the surface and flick water around. "Anyways. We'll see how it goes. There's like, 50 more Turns of this, right?" Doesn't that just brighten the atmosphere? So Mayte tries again: "So, any cute boys working in the Smithy?" Girls like to talk about cute boys, right?

Zalara nods, 'And Weyrleaders can be replaced, so if the Weyrwoman doesn't like what the Weyrleader is doing maybe his dragon won't catch her's next time." She shrugs a little bit and she makes a face, "What? Ew no there are not any cute boys at the Smithy, they are all gross sweaty beasts."

Mayte definitely isn't going to touch the subject of Weyrleadership, her own expression going slightly discomforted at the thought, even if she has to acknowledge: "Well… maybe." A pause as Mayte regroups: "But last time, the Weyrleader was completely out of the Weyr when Jivayath went up." Hah! Counterpoint! As for the boys, Mayte huffs, "I mean, after they clean up. They have to bathe sometime, right?" Mayte might be a little spoiled on that count, "At least, I always made my junior apprentices bathe. Can't have wine smelling bad, after all."

Zalara hmms, "Maybe so, but who know what will happen last time." She shrugs a little bit, "I guess after they clean up they'd be okay if they all weren't dim glows. Some of them never bath." She makes a face, "They smell like old sweat and boots."

WELL, Mayte can sympathise: "Well, surely there are some brighter apprentices elsewhere? Or they're at the age of 'girls are grodey'?" Mayte gives one eloquent, watery shrug before rising out of the pool just a little. "Sometimes I think the male Candidates are stuck there permanently," she adds absently.

The thing that staggers into the public baths looks like a grody boy. Worse, it smells like a boy that's been through one too many alleys entirely, funky and something to be kept downwind. It even has that weird boy-walk, as if the universe's treasures are between his thighs and thus must be shown to everyone. You know which walk. All that lasts until it stops relatively close to Zalara and Mayte — perhaps to let them enjoy the eau de Piss Alley that's wafting along delicately? Then, casually, it reaches up to tug its shirt off, and reveals a tightly-wrapped chest amidst a hoarse-voiced grumble.

It looks human. It smells … okay, it smells like something a bit beyond human, so Mayte looks over at the newest addition to their area with a wrinkled nose. Is it? she? he? coming in their direction? Alas, it seems to be so, and Mayte watches in some dismay as the person stops nearby. A little elbow waves at Zalara and Mayte and her fellow boy-Candidates who sit across from the girls, watch in morbid fascination.

"Bloody hell!" a soprano voice explodes from the mess of tunic; seconds later it goes sailing into a distant corner, pants fly off, the bindings come off with a whispered curse and finally a girl is revealed, scrunch-faced and disgusted. "Oh. Hey." That off-beat greeting to the girls and boys, of course; were this gang turf there'd be a recognition signal as well. A very grubby-faced Veresch has the courtesy to climb into a pool by herself, albeit within easy chatting distance. "Bad storm we had, right?" There's a wince. "Faranth, that makes my tits hurt."

Zalara finishes up and she starts to get out so she can get dry. "Not that I know of, they are all now timers and they think that girls shouldn't be smiths, at least the ones that are apprentice snow." She finishes drying off, "I only know one boy who wasn't a dim glow and he moved to Southern. It was nice talking with you Mayte." She wrinkles her nose and heads out.

Oh HEY, there's a girl under all that! Mayte looks faintly astonished, the boys in her pool look faintly besotted, and Zalara looks faintly… getting out and dry? Mayte waves to the Smith girl and nods, calling, "See you later!" as Zalara departs. The boys' attention is all on Veresch, while Mayte is watching them with bemusement while hauling herself out of the pool. A towel is wrapped around her shoulders, while Mayte sniffs gently, "yeah, it was pretty bad. Was out, working in a lot of it. Did you know," irony of ironies colours Mayte's tone, "that wood doesn't chop itself?" Shoulders and hands flex reflexively (see what she did there) as Mayte moves to stand, wrapping herself in a long, slightly dirty housecoat.

The boys get glared at, Mayte gets stared at, and Zalara gets waved at. "Would never have guessed," Veresch gets out between dunking her head in disgust and scrubbing until the pool's swirling with grime. "Did they think they're not going to have enough wood?" It's not a task she ever tried, obviously. "I had a couple of runs out in it, and then K'ane was shouting about dicks, and I decided to run away to the Trench and sulk there." No mention where the malodorous odour comes from, however.

The purity of white candidate knots (which are obviously not worn during bathtime) repel Veresch's +2 Glare attack, or at least the boys' blank stares do, while Mayte shrugs, "It's gotta get done sooner or later, right? If everyone keeps passing it off…" Leaving that to the imagination, Mayte boggles at the idea of K'ane shouting about… "Wait, Wingrider K'ane? Bronze Dhioth?" There's something funny with this story, so Mayte eyes the messenger as she towels off her hair thoughtfully while slipping into shoes, "You're sure it was K'ane?" Anyway, Mayte hears a call from outside and glares to the boys, "Radnor. Gellin. Curfew." A quick look at Veresch and Mayte offers, "Should find you sometime. We'll talk." With that said, the Candidate, soon followed by Radnor and Gellin, heads out the Baths door, scurrying to make the allotted bedtime.

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