Who

Kyriatis, Xanthee

What

Southern weyrbrat meets Igen weyrbrat, and while things start off civil enough, soon they are pushing each other's buttons.

When

It is midmorning of the tenth day of the second month of the fourteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Parting of the Willows, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 31 May 2018 04:00

 

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"How dare you?"


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The Parting of the Willows

Here the sighing willows part, and here the earth recalls. Up from the clearing's centre there stands an obelisk of grey marble, the solid stuff of memory inscribed with silvery runes. The grass is soft and emerald here, and flowers spring up about the rising stone. Wild firelizards haunt this place, and with the drooping willows gather in recollection of laughter, a light heart, and song. This place is thick with the fond-remembered past, and sad with shattered dreams.

It is the fortieth day of Summer and 99 degrees. It is sunny and bright. White fluffy clouds drift lazily across the china blue sky.


Mid-morning, another perfect summer's day (of course). Kyriatis sits a few paces from the marble obelisk, one knee drawn up towards her chin while the other is folded in to what might otherwise have been a crossed leg. Her chin rests atop that knee, the crook of her arm wrapped about it, dark-eyed gaze lifted towards the obelisk itself. Though her expression is serious, she seems thoughtful rather than melancholy, the final sounds of some statement or another fading out as she closes her mouth: "—mum."

Sometimes you just need to get away, especially when Igen is in the middle of their winter. So that is what Xanthee did. After saying good-bye to her boyfriend this morning, she finangled a ride over to Southern, not hard for a weybrat turned weyrwoman's assistant. The timing was just right too, with Amani soon to be confined to the Sands, and Reveka still on her extended vacation, this Igen girl has been dying for some time with her besties! To counteract the effect of the Southern humidity has on her thick raven hair, she has plaited it neatly in twing french braids, the ends falling past her shoulders. Clad in a tunic dress in the style of the desert in a crisp white with emerald embroidery. Leaving Reve to some shopping and Amani to her duties, Xan decided to take a walk and rediscover some of her old haunting grounds during her candidacy. Upon seeing the youth and catching her last words, she clears her throat loudly so as to not feel like she was evesdropping. "Beautiful day isn't it?" she offers as an easy greeting.

Kyriatis jumps, visibly, as Xanthee clears her throat, and whether or not she was done done with whatever monologue was going through her head, she's definitely done now. Swinging around, her head lifting from her knee, she lifts her chin to study the other teen. The faint flush visible across brown cheeks may have something to do with the defiant expression she maintains, but her words, at least, are level and cautious rather than defensive or disapproving. "Always. This is Southern, after all."

Xanthee raises a brow in amusement at the girl's jumping, remembering how easily she used to be startled. "Sorry about that, I didn't mean to scare you." Her warm voice has a definite foreign lilt, but her bright smile is warm all the way to her large emerald green eyes, "It most certainly is. I was counting on it when I left Igen this morning and it did not disapoint," she replies to Kyria's cautious declaration. "I can leave you alone if you want. I was just taking a walk through some of my favorite places down here." She pauses to await the younger girl's response before she moves any closer.

Kyriatis' nose wrinkles distinctly at mention of the desert Weyr, but she's polite enough - or distracted enough - not to make specific comment on it otherwise (at least not immediately). Instead, she airily waves her hand, dismissing Xanthee's offer in a somewhat pseudo-regal manner: the peasantry has permission to remain. "No, no. I'm done. I won't keep you from your… walking."

Xanthee takes note of the girl's nose wrinkle with a curiously raised eyebrow. But when the girl gives her 'permission' to remain, she stiffles a giggle behind pressed lips. "Well, thank you very much then," she says in an amused tone before wandering further with a nod in passing, happy to continue her walk. But then she spots the girl's white knot and she smiles in her direction, pausing once more. "You're a candidate!" Look at Captain Obvious over here. "That's exciting. It must be your first time," Xan guesses, gauging the girl's age. And the raven-haired girl's nature as a social butterfly reveals itself as she finds somewhere to perch upon. "I'm Xanthee by the way, but everyone calls me Xan," she says with a friendly tilt of her head in the girl's direction.

As bubbly as Kyria herself can be, she seems a little taken aback by Xanthee - and as a result, it takes her a few moments to work through the other girl's words and come up with anything resembling an answer. "Kyria," she says, finally. "That's right. I'll be standing for Rhiscorath's eggs in another couple of sevens." She draws her knee back up, holding it in place with one loosely curved arm, gaze appraising the older girl.

"Well don't look thrilled about it or anything," Xanthee replies, but her soft tone isn't teasing, actually it's quite sympathetic. "Well met Kyria, that's a pretty name. So first time huh? I remember mine. I was a wreck." she says with a flick of her hand for emphasis before she lifts it to play at the end of her braid. She studies the girl for a long moment, her gaze intent on her, but soft at the same time. "Are you hiding out here or something? It was one of my favorite places to come and escape candidate chores." She looks around her at the serenely beautiful willow trees, the light breeze rippling softly through them, creating a quiet rustling sound that Xan find most soothing.

Kyriatis' shrug is her only real answer to Xanthee's first comment, surely suggestion enough that she's diffident over the whole prospect. It's the rest of what gets said that has the younger girl biting her lower lip and, finally, admitting, "I needed some alone time, yes. And—" She glances up at the obelisk, then back at Xanthee. "It would've been my mum's turnday. I never really knew her, so it's not sad, as such, but sometimes I like to update her on things. But don't worry: I really was finished. How many times have you Stood?"

"I am truly sorry about your mum," Xanthee says, her own voice catching in her throat briefly before she continues, "I do that too with my mom. I lost her to Threadscore when I was four, so I have hardly any memories of her at all." With a soft sigh, she decides that maybe the subject of dead mother's isn't the best for this beautiful day in Southern. Grasping onto her last, she grins easily, "I've been a Candidate three times now," is her standard answer to that question, even though it's not exactly what Kyria asked. "I'm taking a break from it for now, concentrating on my work and other things."

Despite her own initial reference to that sad, sad topic (even if Kyria herself doesn't seem overly sad as such), the younger girl focuses rather more intently upon that second topic. "'For now'. Does that mean you won't stand for any clutches that come up for a while? You would turn down an offer to stand here… or I suppose at Igen, which I think is where you said you live?" The curiosity is genuine, even if it comes out a little bluntly. "Come to think of it, why did you come to stand here if you're from there?"

"I'm taking a couple of turns off," Xanthee clarifies, "I'm only eighteen, I still have plenty of time left to stand. And I want to, my mom rode brown and Pa rides bronze, though he's not exactly thrilled with the idea, he's warmed up to it. It's all I ever imagined for myself." There's an almost romantic wistfullness to her voice before she tackles the rest of the girl's questions with an amused giggle, "That's the idea. Now it might be awhile before either of our two queens rise again, so I won't need to think about it." The idea of coming back to Southern for Candidacy does make her pause briefly before continuing, "I have friends here who have threatened to Search me, but they all understand. Being left standing…it's hard." Her smile fades for a moment before that last curious question is returned with a curious stare, "I was Searched, I wasn't going to say no," her tone speaks to that being the obvious answer. "Besides, I had never been out of Igen before, it was an adventure."

Kyriatis' huff is somewhat dismissive, but perhaps not aimed directly at Xanthee herself, because she says, "I'm never leaving Southern. Not for more than a quick visit somewhere, anyway." This prospect of not Impressing, of being left, causes some kind of shift to her expression, but for once it's difficult to read, perhaps because she's so busy squelching it down. And, "My friend Ginger apprenticed after she'd stood a few times. She'll still stand, but she's got a craft behind her. Me, I'm a gardener, so I'll just go back to that, probably."

"Well good for you," Xanthee replies, "I found leaving home made me come to appreciate it all the more when I came back." And that will be Xan's little bit of wisdom of the day. She watches the girl's expression shift and gives an exagerated shrug, "I think I remember Ginger, I'm pretty sure she was in my Candidate class here." Not that they ever reall talked too much, but Xan tends to know everyone. "And that's what you do, keep busy, get back to life, and wait till next time. Or not. It a personal decision everyone needs to make for themselves. I've worked as a drudge, a waitress and now I'm Weyrwoman Nasrin's assistant. I also took to working out a lot. I figure it's never to early to work on my rider's physique." she adds with a giggle.

It's a piece of wisdom completely lost upon Kyriatis, who seems to have dismissed it out of hand: she already appreciates home exactly the right amount, thank you very much. "And if you never Impress at all? One of our assistant headwomen is like that… I heard one of the other candidates say she stood like ten times and never Impressed, and that's why she's so strict with us."

"Then I don't," Xanthee says with an easy grin, "I'll handfast my boyfriend, have lots of babies, and live my life happily. No one can guarantee Impression, but it will definitely not happen if I don't Stand. That's how I look at it anyway." The older teen almost seems too serene about this, a little too zen. On the subject of the unfortunate assistant headwoman, she gives a sympathetic nod, "I've seen that happen as well, and it's sad when it does, but good on her for not giving up, even though it didn't go her way in the end."

"And yet you're taking time off," counters Kyriatis, more quizzical than accusatory, though she's definitely not buying the zen. "I guess your dragon might just have to go pick someone else, and leave you to your babies." She's dropped her knee again now, perhaps as if she's about to stand, perhaps just to change her position.

"Come talk to me after you've failed to impress multiple times, and then see if you are eager to jump right back into it," Xanthee declares with a narrowing of her eyebrows rather defensively as her sunny mood goes behind some clouds. "I wish you never have to deal with the heartbreak of walking off the Sands alone, but if you do, maybe then you'll understand." Pushing off of whatever she was leaning on, she sighs heavily, "It's ok, I remember being your age, I know how it feels to think you have it all figured out."

"Really? Because I don't think I have it all figured out. Anything but! I just know a load of trying-to-make-myself-feel-better bullshit when I hear it." Now, the younger teen has definitely crossed into accusatory. "All I can see is you telling me that you have to stand to get what you want, but maybe you're going to take some time off to make yourself feel better. And that just looks like avoidance to me. So before getting up on your high horse to condescend to me how it 'really is', maybe deal with your own issues." So, uh… there?

"How dare you?" Xanthee says taking a step in the other girl's direction as her emerald eyes flash dangerously, "You were the one grilling me about my experiences, and when I answer honestly, you throw it back in my face as not being committed. You don't know me and I certainly don't have to justify my choices to some Southern 'brat who doesn't know how to mind her manners. Candidates are supposed to be respectful you know, you're making a poor showing of it right now. I might have to have a word with Amani about what exactly they are teaching you all here. Because this," and she waves her hand vaguely in Kyriatis' direction, "Would be unacceptable at Igen."

"Because at Igen, everyone goes around condescending at other people?" Kyriatis, in too deep to step back, lifts her chin so that she can glare up at Xanthee. "I realise that you think you're better than me, but I call it as I see it. If you were a dragonrider, I'd salute, but you're not, are you? Nor are you here on some diplomatic mission to represent your stupid Weyr. So maybe you should butt out and stop being such a condescending asshole. Namedropping isn't doing you any favours."

This actually makes Xanthee laugh, although the sound is distinctly bitter, "I really don't see why I'm actually standing here taking this from someone who is so obviously not ready for the responsibility of riding a dragon," Throwing up her hands in the air, she turns and makes her way back the way she came with hurried, angry steps. Just before leaving the immediate area, she turns back, one hand on her hip and the other pointing accusatorily in the younger girl's direction, "You know, I take back what I said. I hope you are left standing, and then maybe you'll learn that the world doesn't always fit in a nice tidy little package. It's a lesson you sorely need apparently." Lifting her own chin stubbornly, she turns on her heels and heads back to the Weyr proper, no doubt to find her friends and complain about the absolutely rude candidate she had the misfortune of meeting.

The sound Kyriatis makes is one of pure disbelief. "Can you even hear yourself?" She calls out after the other girl, though perhaps it's as much for herself as anyone else. She stays where she is (for now), though no doubt she'll later be telling her own friends about the pompous, know-it-all, condescending prat of an Igenite (ugh) who interrupted her mum-time.

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