Who

Jaune, Xanthee, Zetali

What

Candidates do laundry on a cold winter's day.

When

It is afternoon of the thirteenth day of the twelfth month of the fourteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Laundry Rooms, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 09 Sep 2018 07:00

 

jaune_default.jpgxanthee_default.jpgzetali_default.jpg

"Hey, Xanthee, tell him he's shameless, will you?"


spacer.png

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.


A wintry afternoon and it's almost a relief to be assigned to work in the steamy rooms with it's huge barrels for the Weyr's dirty laundry. Zig zagged with clotheslines used especially in the winter, Xanthee is busy hanging up some well wrung clothing up to dry, clipping them on with wooden pegs as she tries not to think too much on people's unmentionables she is handling, and instead lets her mind wander a little bit. It's a repetitive exercise, bend to pick up a garment from the basket, hang over the line, secure…and rinse and repeat. She doesn't even realize how dull it is until she hears a bored sigh and only afterwards realizes it came from her.

At first Zetali thought it had been nice to have chores inside, for once, and not be at the mercy of the elements. Then she realised she would be standing over a barrel and wringing garments fresh out of the water. Her hair's been pulled into a braid, and her sleeves she's rolled up well past her elbows. Relishing the sheer mindlessness of the task, every so often she glances further down the line to where Xanthee hangs clothing up, gauging to see how far her friend's gotten in the assembly line. Xanthee's sigh of boredom comes at about the same time Zetali can't help a yawn, hands too wet to bother covering her mouth to try and stifle or hide it. "At least we're not out there," she finally says, shrugging. "And at least it's something… you know. Mostly clean."

Jaune is here too. He is very used to barrels, but not for THIS. Laundry day. And he recognizes these. These are the uniforms that people were wearing the fateful food fight now. Which just makes him groan out loud at the memory. By the first egg, why did he let Khaylia start this. Because obviously it wasn't his fault. He is carrying more wet clothes, damp at least. But its enough to soak through his shirt. "Have you recovered yet, Zetty?" Because who doesn't have a nickname for Zetali now.

"Yeah, it's gotten cold, fast," Xanthee replies to Zetali with a warm smile over her shoulder as she picks up a shirt and repeats the process of hanging it up. She's about half done this particular basket at her feet. "I don't mind Laundry, so far as Candidate chores go, it's not the worst," she declares before a memory of a previous candidacy brings a soft giggle to her lips. To Jaune, she grins wryly as her eyebrow hikes up, "You talking about that food fight? Honestly, what were they thinking would happen putting that many Candidates on Kitchen duty?" Xanthee doesn't mind laughing about it because she was running some errands for Nasrin that fateful evening.

Stupid winter. Stupid winter in the desert. Most people who haven't lived in a desert don't think of them as cold, but deserts have the potential to be some of the coldest places on the planet. Why, back on Earth, the great tundras of the world were technically considered deserts for their waterless expanses. All that to say, Igen is really cold. "Yeah, it has. Keroon got cold in the winter, but not like this." Zetali raises a hand, flicking one hand in a gesture to encompass the Weyr. Her gesture might accidentally flick some water, too. "I actually like it. It's bracing… oh, sure. You don't mind. You weren't there," Zetali adds, with a groan. "So many potatoes. I don't know what I was thinking. I guess I got a little angry when something landed across my face, and something just snapped." She sighs, shaking her head as she slaps a wet tunic against the edge of the barrel, proceeding to wring the water from it. "Probably didn't look too good for my Candidacy, either… I'll earn whatever else they've got coming to the lot of us for that. I should've tried to stop it."

"All of them. All of the candidates. I think you got stuck somewhere and missed out." Jaune throws a roguish wink to Xanthee now. He begins to hang up some garments himself. The winter's chill is bracing. Certainly. "I actually enjoy the cold. Bundling up and being cozy…And the wind puts redness into the cheeks of all the pretty girls." What alien brainswapped into Jaune? "Zetty. Or Zali. Or….Divine Beauty. Hows divine beauty?" He'll turn back around to look at that tunic. Its familiar-ish. Oh. Right. The clawmarks. "Yes. Thats mine. Bella got me there. And there. See?" He pokes a finger at the small hole on the collar.

"I wasn't there, thank Faranth for that bit of good luck," Xanthee says with a grin at the harper turned candidate. "Not sure what I would have done if I was there though," she adds honestly, hoping she wouldn't have got caught up in that mess, but you never know. Turning to Jaune with a surprised grin and a tilt of her head, she can't help but tease, "Pretty girls huh? You have a special one in mind?" Even though relationships are forbidden, there's nothing to say that crushes aren't going to happen, and this raven-haired girl is always up for the juiceiest gossip. Then the nickname he gives to Zetali makes her wonder if she hasn't already got her answer to that question.

"You're lucky, not being there. We paid for that stunt for days. In fact, we still are." Listening distractedly to the rest of the conversation, Zetali turns the shirt in her hands this way and that to examine it closer. Come to think of it, the tiny claw-marks across the face of it do look a little familiar. She shrugs, wringing out more water from it. "Well, it's clean, now. Actually, that came out pretty good. I don't see any stains." Tossing it aside into the pile waiting for Xanthee to string them up on the line, Zetali starts in on the next garment. Someone's generic vest, oh boy! She shrugs and starts wringing the water out of that, too, ignoring the dull ache threading its way through the tendons of her hands. "Jaune, you're shameless," she says as off-handedly as a comment about the weather. "You're about as subtle as the anvils Smithcrafthall uses. You know that, right? Hey, Xanthee, tell him he's shameless, will you? I don't think he's hearing it right from me. Maybe he'll listen to you."

He'll move to hang up clothes facing them, making the conversation easier. "If I let every single crush I have led me astray, I think a woman would've had me and left me some time ago." Teeth worry at his lip as he hangs some scanty garment. Goodness. Women wear this? You can see everything through it. A glance off towards Zetali and Xanthee both. Shameless Jaune? "I was just trying something new. Figuring if I was on the offensive…I might be safer? I suppose."

"That's what I heard," Xanthee says of the fact the culprits were still paying for it. As to whether Jaune is shameless or not, that's not really for Xan to say. "Well at least you recognize the dangers of crushes," there's a bite to the raven-haired girl's words as she remembers being led astray one particular time. Her attitude softens though when she sees what Jaune is holding up to hang, and she can't help a giggle at his discomforture. To Jaune's last, she quips, "Why don't you just be yourself instead of being more this or that? A guy who is confident in his own skin…now that's attractive." she says with a dreamy lilt to her voice.

"You should've seen Wingleader Eala. I think she was ready to start literally spitting nails," Zetali comments, with the detached calculation of a scientist studying an experiment. It's not so horrifying in retrospect so she can dissect the memory of what happened. "I'm kind of surprised our punishment wasn't even worse. She said that allowing others to make poor choices could lead to live sbeing lost, and not just a night's worth of scrubbing." Zetali blows out a sigh, fluttering the hair in front of her face. "And she's right." One shoulder rolls as she goes back to wringing water out of the next garment. "Sorry. I can't really help it. You get so flustered, and it's funny to see the look on your face… but if it bothers you, I can stop." Zetali shakes her head. Thwhack, goes the tunic, as she gives it a hearty slap on the side of the barrel to shake some of the water free. "I think I have to agree with Xan. Confidence is pretty attractive," she adds, with an indulgent grin and a dreamy lilt of her own.

Jaune hangs up a few more garments, having had ample access to a wringer this time. It was helping. Or maybe he just doesn't care if it drip-drys. "I suppose I should give up worrying for now. If I don't impress, I'll work for a few more years to try and walk…if I do? Uh. Well…I heard that you don't really..get a choice." Does it seem Jaune is almost looking forward to that? Giving up agency about who he ends up with, day to day? "I've ventured my toe out there. Just a bit. Just to see if I could do something. It didn't really work out. Its okay."

"Oh hush." Jaune is quick to snap at Zetali. Another garment up, and held in place before he shakes a clothespin at Zetali. "You and your dis-interest. I am sure you left a string of heartbroken boys and girls in your wake. I have heard your voice and seen you play." His foot rubs out and nudges bumps into her barrel of clothes to make sure she is paying attention. "Men should be falling over themselves to have you simply for being you. Not for what your craft could bring them."

"I did no such thing," Zetali snaps right back at Jaune, shaking a fist instead of a clothespin for lack of something to brandish. "I've had to keep my eyes on my Craft. And now, Candidacy. I still do, because it'd be irresponsible of me to assume I'll Impress. If I don't keep myself prepared to walk the tables, I'm never going to make it." She tosses the garment to the pile, pausing briefly to clench and unclench sore hands before reaching for the next garment. "I can't afford to think about men, or women, or anything that isn't walking the tables, or I'll never make it. And I can't go back to Keroon Hold as a failure. I can't. I don't think I could bear to see my mother's gentle disappointment. That's worse than any beratement I could earn from my father. Ten times worse." She trails off, glancing back at Xanthee at the other's unexpected sharpness. Although she arches a brow, she doesn't argue or snap back. "Everything okay, Xan…? Yeah, we can talk about something else." Awkward grin time. "…But if you change your mind and you wanna talk, I've been told I'm an okay listener, sometimes. Your call." Another garment, another step closer to collapsing in her cot. "Yeah. I know what you mean, though. I haven't had the energy to do much more than keep my lute tuned… the poor baby needs oil and a polishing cloth and I need to check the frets, but there just aren't enough hours in a day."

"You can't wait for things to be perfect if you find someone. Can you? You've got to latch on before they slip away somewhere. To something or someone else." But Jaune crumples at Xanthee's snap of an opinion. At least vocally. He'll wait and let her get it all out. "Yeah…anything else. I kind of like candidacy. Getting a chance to shake yourself free of it all. At least for a month or two." He'll leave his barrel where it is, and come over to help Zetali finish putting stuff up on her line. Gaze speaking volumes back at her, then glancing towards Xanthee. Something is up over there.

With a heavy sigh, Xanthee really does feel like she wants to open up, but just her luck, she's probably eng up hysterical…again. What is it with the Laundry and roiling emotions? With a quivering look from Zetali to Jaune, her breath catches softly as the harper girl talks about her mother, she always feels that hurt more keenly while she wears the white knot. Finally with a defeated sigh she shakes her hed and looks down at her hands to avoid eye contact more than anything. "You two are crafters, Holders, you are working towards your goal. As a weyrbrat, so am I. My goal has been, will always be, to be a rider. Like my mom…who died when I was only four. One of Igen's first casualties of this Pass. It's not like a craft, I can't do a project and progress towards my goal, I have to leave it up to baby dragons to decide my fate, if I will become what I desperately want. So while this may be a break from your lives, this is my life. As many times as I need."

"I'm not waiting," Zetali snaps, and there's a hint, the barest promise, of real frustration behind her words. "Relationships are mutually exclusive to Apprenticeships, and Candidacy, for that matter. I've never had the luxury of actually thinking about… being with anyone." She gestures nebulously, though the stiffness with which her hands flick isn't completely because of her annoyance. Her hands hurt. "I actually don't like being alone, but there you have it. I don't have a choice if I want to walk the tables. If I go back home, I'm going to be married off to some boorish idiot or another. And I would be in misery." But the wind is taken out of her sails before she can really get to properly breathing fire at Jaune. Instead, she pales at Xanthee's confession, expression and shoulders both drooping. "Oh, Xan. I'm so sorry. I—I didn't know. I mean, I know you've been a Candidate a few other times, but…" She hadn't learned why Xanthee raked herself back over those emotional coals. Being left Standing once would be hard enough for anyone. "I'm sorry. I'm not—" She looks down at her laundry, flushing more out of frustration than anything else, now directed at herself. "I just get a little frustrated, sometimes. To be told your work isn't good enough… but that's awful."

Jaune's eyebrows furrow at Zetali's CONTINUANCE to talk about these things. Its Jaune's fault and he knows it. This time, not like food fight night where everyone blamed Kaelige collectively. He isn't the a focus of the emotional storms raging at out here in the laundry lines. Women are very emotional. "Its…we know, Xanthee. You're the one with the most to lose." Lifted hand goes out to settle upon Xanthee's shoulder and gently squeeze.

If Jaune thinks this is emotional, he should have seen Xanthee in her first candidacy, a hysterical mess in these very Laundry rooms. At least now she has a stoic grace about her as she swallows the lump in her throat. Holding her hand up to Zetali's apology, she shakes her head, "It's ok, I am committed to this, just like you are to your crafts, it's the road I've chosen." She takes the squeeze to her shoulder with a good natured shake of her head, "Not yet, I don't have anything to lose yet. I can stand for turns still, I'm only turning nineteen in a couple sevens. I don't have to worry about losing my dream yet, even if I don't impress again." With a sigh, she finishes off her basket of clothes to hang up and one of their supervisors sweeps down on her with a task to deliver some clean sheets to the infirmary. With one last wave at Jaune and Zetali, Xan thanfully takes her leave, leaving all the heaviness behind her.

The apprentice harper gives another forced sigh, this time to flutter her hair out of her face so she doesn't have to reach up and brush it away with wet hands. Zetali looks back over her shoulder at Xanthee in some sympathy, nodding in response to Jaune's observation that Xanthee has the most to lose of any of them. Yet in that gesture, it seems, the Candidate with the sea-green eyes seems to resolve her support of Xanthee. Maybe there's nothing she can do to influence Xanthee's chances of Impression, but she can still support her friend whole-heartedly. "Yeah. Which is why we want to help, any way we can. Although," she says a little glumly, "I guess there's not much we can actually do, though." Her brow furrow as Xanthee gathers up her things. "Well, we believe in you," she offers in parting, waving to return Xanthee's. Off her fellow raven-haired candidate goes, and Zetali turns her attention back to the laundry at hand, beating the water out of a garment or three in silence. She starts in on a fourth. "I'd give up my chances if it meant Impressing for her."

The distress of Xanthee wracks at Jaune, and he weatherse the storm a bit more until Xanthee turns tail to flee. "I would too. I'd be a senior-apprentice the rest of my days for her." He stands in silence only a moment or two, reflecting on everything. The young man can see the pain she feels in her hand, and he moves to hipbump her out of the way of the barrel. "Here. I'll beat the water clear of them, and you can hang them?" Jaune doesn't take no for an answer and settles in place to pull at the clothes and wring them for her.

"Deal." Staggering a little at the unexpected hip-check out of the way of the barrel, Zetali steadies herself against the table and scoops up a handful of clothespins as she goes. She reaches up to fix another garment to the line, glancing back the way Xanthee had left and shaking her head one last time. Poor Xanthee. "Yeah. I know what you mean. She's been so nice to me since the start… I met her before I was asked to Stand, actually, but not by a whole lot. Sevenday or two, maybe three, if I don't mark my time accurately."

"I've been so busy that its been hard to tell how long I've been here. I think I met Khaylia first. And this weird Zingari kid?" Jaune is forceful with the clothes now, more than she. But he does'nt have the sting in his hands quite yet from doing it for hours. A garment is wrung, then handed out to Zetali once more. "I've probably talked to you more than anyone else. Khaylia always ends up yelling at me."

"I was busy before I was asked to Search, so it's really more of the same, for me. The life of an apprentice is never dull, either." Zetali rolls a shoulder, reaching up to pin the trousers Jaune hands her to the line, and flexing the stiffnes out of her fingers as she waits for the next one. "I feel like I've been busy since I said I wanted to study to become a Harper, but this seems like a nice change. There's a certain mindlessness to the things they've been asking us to do as Candidates. It's not easy work, but it's mindless work, and there's a big difference. I like mindless work. You don't need to second-guess anything about it. It's just… there, you know?" Shaking her hands out, she looks up at the line, which is starting to dip a little from the weight of its burden. "I've probably talked to you and Xanthee the most. We just happen to be working together a lot, I guess. I haven't come across Khaylia too much, but… I don't… think we really have much in common, you know?"

"I really don't know if we do either. She doesn't talk about herself much. She just seems mindless and vapid and just. Shallow? Is that mean of me to say?" Zetali's barrel is finished now and he drags it away to set it aside. "I don't think she is. I mean, she got searched so theres something more to her." Jaune watches her shaking her hands and winces just a bit. "You're used to very careful sort of precise work with them? Nothing too forceful or anything? You'll get used to it after awhile. You can wrap your hands around something really warm later. I can bring you some tea?"

"I haven't heard her talk about herself, either. In fact, I'm not even certain where she's originally from, if not the weyr. She hasn't talked about much at all around me… and when I did see her in the kitchen, she was busy whining about having sauce in her hair and getting panicky about it not coming out." Zetali rolls a shoulder. "I come from a beasthold. You learn to stop freaking out about dirt after a certain point. Life is dirty. So you scrub yourself off at the end of the day… big deal, right?" Is it really? She wouldn't know. "I happen to agree with you, about her. I don't mean it with any malice, either. She just… is." To her hands, she glances down, flexing her fingers again. "Yeah. But you actually need a fair amount of strength to play a lute, too. It's not just about being able to move your fingers fast, although you need that, too. You need to be able to push the string all the way down on the fret and keep it there. If you haven't got it down all the way, you either foul a note or it buzzes. I've just been at this for hours so my hands are just tired, period." She shakes her head, blowing out a breath to puff her hair out of her eyes again, lifting a brow at his offer. The smile is genuine, and for once not one that says she's toying with him. "Really? That'd be great. Thanks." She considers a moment, humming tunelessly under her breath as she runs a quick mental tally on the laundry left. Are they washing the entire weyr? Probably. "I hope we both Impress," she adds, amused. "It'd solve a lot of problems, wouldn't it? Although I guess it would create just as many more, too…"

"I think she plays it off a bit. She is smart enough to get around doing anything too heavy lifting or drudgery. Shes a bit like Kaelige. Just. Not as volatile. Or just plain snarky." Jaune glances over as someone else takes over the barrel he was working on originally. It SEEMS like the last of it. "I have some peppermint I was going to use for this brew. I can get it going for a tea." He'll run his hands through his hair rapidly before pushing it back from his forehead again. Ugh. So sweaty. "I hope at least you impress. You deserve it. I hope we all impress. Kaelige and Khaylia too. I think they're running from something. Any other problems? I think we can figure it out. Dragons make decisions for you, I'm told. I haven't met anyone I'd be horrified waking up next to."

"Part of me hopes she does. I don't want to think anybody would be that shallow." Zetali allows herself a faint shiver, although whether that's from being wet up to the elbows in the middle of winter or whether in mild horror, it's hard to say. "Kaelige? No. Not at all." Her voice goes cold enough to rival the temperature outside. "He's hiding something. I don't know what. He gives me the creeps, though, and there aren't many people I can say that about. Whatever game he's playing, I don't want to be around when all those secrets of his come crawling out into the light of day." She clucks her tongue, stifling another repulsed shudder. "Thanks. I hope you do, too. Aside from the fact that I think you could use a friend… it's a solution to your problems. Maybe not the ideal solution, but it's a solution. And I think you'd be a good Threadfighter. I get the impression you don't scare too easy, either." She shrugs. "And I haven't, either… except that guy." Kaelige, that is.

Add a New Comment