Who

Ainslee, Talya

What

Ainslee and Talya are there to stare at the eggs, while the former poses some questions to consider

When

It is evening of the tenth day of the fifth month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Galleries

OOC Date 02 Mar 2018 07:00

 

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"Do you really feel qualified to ride a dragon?"


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Galleries

Though occasionally cleaned by ambitious (or neurotic) drudges or weyrbrats being disciplined, the lack of Eggs over the last several Turns has led to the Galleries falling into a state of disrepair. Sand can be found…well, everywhere. On the benches, under the benches, on the railings and walkways. There is also the random tidbit leftover from people who've wandered into the gathering place since the last cleaning. A random bit of cloth here, a bit of something that might have been a carving-in-progress once there.


The later hour thins out the general gawking crowd of the galleries. Tonight, you've just got the odd pockets of riders placing bets, some drudges cleaning the day's dust away, and of course Candidates, contemplating their futures or… something. Ainslee's in that last category, though she seems more of an 'or something,' sitting off by herself with a lap full of white fabric, muttering and paying very little attention to the sands themselves.

Talya is just arriving, probably having timed it just right when people were leaving towards the later evening, with a little basket of supplies and surprises. Either way she is making her way up the galleries, pausing long enough to say: "That one there has thoughts of grandeur, and kinda shiny. Maybe gold even. Imagine the marks you'd earn for that bet." She's pointing towards that Test Your Medal Egg. And then she's walking on, not caring what they may have thought about the intruding candidate. She finds Ainslee, finding a like mind and flopping down by her. "How is that going for you?" she asks of her fellow white knot, nodding to the fabric as she settles in for some watching.

Ainslee blinks at Talya: Yes? Hello? After a moment's adjustment - oh, she has company now - Ainslee relaxes again, adjusting her hold on her needle. "Evening," she says, almost pointedly. Pleasentries, they're a thing. "How is what going? Sewing my robe? Or," she shuffles the fabric in her lap enough to make it clear that there is far too much there, "sewing everyone else's robes?" Her tone is laden with wry humor, rather than bitterness, at least.

Talya pulls out dinner from her basket. Just some meatrolls, quick and easy to snag and to get away from the living caverns. She's picking at the food, not looking inclined to eat it but instead spreading crumbs. Her eyes are staring at the pile of white fabric. "Wait, what? If I knew you were making a list to make robes for others, I would have signed up." She waves the messy looking roll now towards the fabric. "Did you get conned into doing it or lose a bet or something?"

"I don't bet," Ainslee says, cool, before softening and hitching a shoulder. "Mostly, they just asked. I'm a seamstress," if Talya looks, she'll notice the stitches on the robe Ainslee is hemming are small, neat, and even. "I don't mind doing it, and if we don't all look completely rag-tag out there," she nods to the sands, "so much the better, right?" She tilts her head to one side, watching the other candidate pick her dinner to death. "Did you do yours already?"

"Smart woman," Talya notes about the no betting, very much reserved with her own marks for the most part… well, when it comes to betting. "That makes sense. It sounds like there will be quite a few people with the best looking robes out there. Do they take you long?" Her dark eyes do study the stitching now that she pointed it out, making a small thoughtful sound before sitting back. She finally takes a bite of her roll and takes a while to answer the question, waiting until she finishes the mouthful. "I got some instruction from Daenerys. I never sewed a stitch in my life before, so it's not done yet." Or she just set it aside.

Ainslee shakes her head, setting needle to cloth again, "Not long. I mean, honestly," a brief eyeroll, "they're sacks. With holes. The best kindness you can do them is an even hem." Ains is not impressed with hatching day fashion. "Never in your life?" Now she looks up again with surprise, staring at Talya a beat, before chuckling to herself. "I guess I shouldn't say it like that. Plenty I'd never done before… all this," she waves a hand vaguely at the sands. "What did you do, before?"

Talya makes a face at the fashionable explanation. "You can give them a little bit of shape. Or a belt. Can't you? Or they keep it simple for the ones like me." Who would be lucky to have a robe made if there weren't old ones from previous candidacies or fellow candidates to help her out. She frowns down to her meatroll, then looks out over the eggs thoughtfully. "Is it as a woman I'm supposed to know how to stitch? My mother did the sewing in the family. I did the heavy lifting. And just before this—" she makes a wave towards the eggs and the galleries around them "I was bartending. Not very good at that either," she admits with a smirk to Ainslee. "But you have a head start on us, also needing to learn to make our own straps." Fabric, leather. Same thing right?

Ainslee shrugs, admitting, "I don't really know. I haven't asked a lot of details just - made the basic shape, when folks ask." She tugs a stitch tighter, eyebrows lifting in surprise, "No. I mean - it makes sense for a woman to know how to sew. But, no, I just figured it's something we all do at one point. But then," her smile twists wry, "some would say the same about cooking, I suppose, and I've no history with that. Never had to, eating in the caverns." She shakes her head briefly, "Do I? I mean. Leather work is completely different." She shrugs again. "Did you like it? Bartending?"

"They better just be grateful for getting their robe done," Talya says pointedly, taking another bite of roll. Then, as if coming to a decision, she moves the basket over from her one side to the other, now closer to Ainslee. The cloth napkin is pulled back in offer— meatroll, pies. Everything a growing candidate needs. "Sewing, cooking… Neither skill I possess, so you have one up on me." She shrugs a shoulder then pulls her gaze away from the eggs onto Ainslee. "Shit, no. Do you think bartending is a fun job?" she asks, actually serious for the other woman. "And I imagined learning to sew robes was part of learning to sew leathers next." Talya is not very knowledgeable in it. "You'll have to let me know if it is the same when we're both doing it."

Ainslee glances from the exposed basket to Talya, then back. "I suppose you'd like me to do your robe, then?" She's struggling to hide a smile when she asks, and there's the threat of a chuckle behind her words. "I don't mind, really. Fun?" She purses her lips, "Honestly, I never thought about it. I know it wouldn't suit me, but someone must think it's fun?" Now she sounds doubtful. Even more doubtful: her face at Talya's last. "Sure. When." That's all dry, and scoff-y. "But I'm pretty sure leather needs hole drilling or something. Before you stitch."

The basket is there for the sharing even if Talya does not voice it right now. She actually considers Ainslee's question, a brow raised at the older woman. "Maybe when I get desperate," she says rather uncharacteristically not taking the offer. "I think I want to give this tuber sack a try." She makes a face at the idea of her previous job before being Searched, then takes another bite of meatroll more aggressively. "Serving pushy people yelling at you, being grabbed, cleaning puke. Definitely fun. Sure, there were some good nights." And the drinking. Tal is trying really hard not to remember the drinking. Her anger dissapates at Ainslee's tone when she says 'When', looking back with both brows raised. "No hope? I mean… I would think every candidate standing is thinking the best results"

Ainslee smiles, a bit warmer now, "Well. Let me know if you want any pointers, too. I'm happy to help, if you want to do it yourself. I taught my younger foster-sisters to sew." She chortles at the bartending job description, tying off a thread. "Sounds awful," she says, frank. "Why do it, then?" She falters a little, then, and focuses on smoothing the robe she has in hand as she folds it. "What's best though? Do you really feel qualified to ride a dragon?" Now she glances at Talya, eyebrows raised. "Fight Thread? Strict orders, every day?

Talya finishes off the meatroll quick enough, shaking off the remaining crumbs from her hands before sitting back. "I may take you up on that offer. I caught the basics down from Daenerys, but always helps if the thing falls apart the moment I wear it." Which may be for the first time on hatching day, so it would be too late by then. But she can still appreciate that lesson offer from Ainslee. "It was a job," she repeats with another helpless shrug. "And I was basically banned from helping the cooks in the kitchen at Southern. Wasn't doing much good in the caverns anyway." She had to earn her keep somehow at the Weyr. Something finally settles over her, tensing as she allows the other woman's words sink in. She stares at Ainslee, opens her mouth… nothing. There is no way she can answer that as yes without it being a lie. "Why did you accept to stand if that is how you feel?"

Ainslee seems to think of that, pointing out, "Make sure to try it on before the hatching." She nods for the rest, hesitating before taking a meatroll for herself. "I didn't realize you were from Southern," she remarks, idily - not that it matters. She meets Talya's stare - then breaks it at the question. "I don't know," she admits, looking out - really looking at the eggs, for the first time since they've been talking. "Duty, I suppose. It felt - disrespectful, to say no. Especially… well, Igen's my home. But," she purses her lips, "I think, it's smart to know what you're suited for, and what you're not."

Talya only nods to the suggestion, and hopefully she remembers and does so prior to the hatching. No one wants to see naked candidates on the sands. The subject turned heavy, suddenly, and leaving her thoughts of Southern and home and drinking behind, Ainslee seems to have made her uncomfortable. "I was never even close to dragons before moving to Southern Weyr a Turn ago. They're big." And intimidating, but she does not add that aloud. It's implied though. "And they do that weird talking in your head that takes some getting used to. But when the idea came that I could share in that experience, have that bond and never be alone again…" She shakes her head once, violently. "I guess we will have to learn what we are suited for, and let them decide. I'm not one for putting my life on the line." There's a 'but' at the end there, unsaid.

Ainslee at least looks vaguely chagrined in the face of Talya's discomfort. "They are big," she agrees. "My father's a greenrider. We're not… close. But I've seen his dragon enough that it's not…" She frowns, annoyed with her own verbal struggle. "I don't know," she finally says with a sigh. "I think it's kind of crazy, the life. I don't think it's - " she glances at Talya, and abruptly changes track. "But obviously, we need riders. And what do we know? It's all a guess until hatching. And - " she hesitates, studying the younger girl, "there's nothing wrong with hoping. If you do."

Talya tilts her head to one side, giving Ainslee a side look. "Are some people still not really used to them even growing up around them?" There's two pies, and Talya is in need for sugar and takes the one. But she just takes a nibble on the crust before dropping it to her lap. "I know a bluerider back at Southern, and I'm pretty comfortable around his dragon. Almost used to him talking to me from time to time." She points to her head with her free hand. Almost, of course. "It's a different life— sort of like a change in yourself completely, don't you think? There's definitely a lot of me I can leave behind." But the excitment has been muffled, her face in full frown. "It's that connection that I thought I wanted— do want. The lifemate. Who didn't dream of that? But the rest is something to get used to. You have turns to get into that lifestyle," she adds for Ainslee. "Turns to go from seamstress to badass rider burning Thread."

Ainslee shrugs, eyeing that second pie but not going after it. "I can't speak for others. I'm used to them from a distance but not - " she taps her temple. "They don't speak to people casually, for the most part." She nods, thoughtful, as she folds another robe. "It is a nice idea. But I think - there's so much more, all that extra, that doesn't show up in the daydreams. And even with the Turns," she makes a face, "I'm not sure I have badass rider in me. But," she shrugs again, with a smile that's probably meant to look encouraging, "that's why it's up to them to pick, I guess?" She smoothes a final crease. "I should probably get these back to their owners. But - do let me know if you need help with yours, okay?"

"Not casually, but enough times to scare me half to death at least," Talya mumbles regarding talking dragons in her head. She'd never be used to that… or well, she would if she should Impress her own. The folding of the robe catches her attention and her dark eyes finally seem to come into focus. She gives a little nod, then says, "Definitely don't think about the gruesome parts during my dreams. We shall see, though." She will be thinking about it more now that the honeymoon phase of candidacy is over. "I'm Talya, by the way. With so many faces coming in, I know it's hard to remember." She introduces herself finally as an afterthought. "You sure you don't want some pie?" For the road of course. Tal is just going to enjoy her pie and stare at some eggs with new thoughts in mind.

"Ainslee," Ains offers as she tucks all the robes under her arm, and gathers her sewing basket. "And," oh, one last lingering pie gaze, "no, I shouldn't. But thank you. Have a good evening." And she's off to play robe delivery person.

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