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Log: Talk of Chores
It's currently late spring on the northern continent.
The Starsmiths say it is the 19th Turn, 5th month, and 25th day of the 10th Pass.
Citlali has stopped just outside the hatching grounds to, apparently, take a rest -- she's got all the cleaning supplies with her that make it look as if sweeping and dusting the galleries has been her work so far for the day. Her hair is swept up in a messy bun instead of its usual braid or hanging down in loose waves; there are bits sticking out the top, and she's actually got, of all things, a sweatband holding it back from her face. She's actually leaning against the broom rather than finding someplace to sit, and has a distant sort of expression on -- watching the comings and goings of weyrfolk and dragons somewhat blankly.
Whatever Barrett was up to today, he seems to have finished with it, and is headed in the opposite direction, crossing the bowl from the entrance to the caverns, aiming generally for the galleries. For just a peep, perhaps. His own hair is a bit messy and damp, but more in the way of someone who didn't wait for it to dry entirely after washing up. "Hello," he offers, pausing by Citlali on his way over, all good manners. "Too much energy to walk all the way back?"
Broken from her half-asleep reverie, Citlali doesn't start so much as immediately laugh a little, quiet and light, looking down momentarily to her feet. "Oh, you could say something like that, yeah. Those galleries are shining, though. That floor is /perfect/. Not a speck of dust! For maybe two hours, anyway -- I don't know why they wanted it cleaned so thoroughly just to get all messed up again." People are just going to walk on it! Like Barrett! "I must look a little strange."
"Well, if people tracked in more dirt over the dirt that was already there, it would be twice as dirty. And even harder to clean," Barrett points out, as though a tidy floor needs someone to defend its honor. He grins at her, though: "I don't know. Not much stranger than most anybody looks, around here. Nothing a little soap and water won't fix. Er, and a comb. And--well." He'll just leave it there, bouncing for a moment on his toes. "The headband thing might be a bit much. I'm not sure it's worth trying to accessorize when you're cleaning."
"Oh --" Citlali's hand goes up to the band around her hair, fingertips running along the edge, and she shakes her head a little. Another mostly self-deprecating laugh; "It was to keep my hair out of my face, since the loose bits kept falling down! I wasn't too worried about accessorizing, honestly. Which -- might not be all that believable if you've seen my wardrobe? But I swear it was for convenience. Really. And you're right about the dirt; maybe I just took it too far in trying to make it perfect."
One finger toys for a moment with his own bangs. "Might not be a bad idea," Barrett reflects. "For some of those things. The laundry room always ends up with me feeling like someone's mixed all my hair with glue and stuck it to my forehead, and it's not very comfortable--but it might not be very comfortable anyway." He casts eyes in the direction of the galleries. "Now, I'm afraid I might have to take off my shoes just to walk in there."
Citlali shoots him a wicked smile and says in a tone careful to enunciate every syllable, as if this alone made it threatening: "You'd better." She's obviously being at least somewhat sarcastic, though; a quick shrug and she's back to talking about hair accessorizing. "I actually enjoy laundry, even though the stable duties are more my thing since it's what I'd been doing anyway -- I think it's just because it's always so humid it makes my allergies better. Hairbands /are/ useful, though, really -- I've got a very boring black one you can borrow if you want?"
Nose wrinkles up. "Allergies would make the stables bad, I would think--or anything with dust--I guess it would depend what you're allergic to?" Barrett cants his head with the question, then smoothes his hair once more and lets it be. "Maybe I'll ask you about it sometime I get assigned something it might be useful. Been happiest so far, myself, with sweeping and the like. That seems simple enough. I don't mind laundry if I can fold."
"Plants," says Citlali with a more tired smile -- the tiredness, of course, is meant more for the subject matter. "I'm allergic to plants. Pollen. Stable's fine, and as far as I know I don't have that many problems with dust -- you are a very neat person, aren't you," she observes, rather like pointing out the sky is blue. "I didn't mind the sweeping, it just got a little. Much. Galleries're big."
"Well--yes." A very neat person whose neatness may in fact be contagious, seeing as it's not always just his own bed that he's making in the mornings. Barrett actually seems to be pleased that someone has noticed this, though, all smiles. "Yes, they are. That's true. Good broom and get the right trick to it, though--it's not so bad."
Citlali isn't exactly the most /unorganized/ person on Pern; being pretty put together, she has at least been known to make her own bed. But the girl next to her? Maybe not. "And you actually like cleaning," continues the 'duh' observation she's got going for herself. "Candidacy must really suit you! This is a nice broom. Have you met this broom?" She's stopped leaning on it, and so extends it out to him, offering. "Nice wood, good weight."
Hands settle in his pockets, not exactly getting grabby with it, but still Barrett does give that particular broom a good looking over. More the bristles than anything else. "It's getting a little worn. But it's pretty dense. That's a good thing. My mother always said that." A pause, and his mouth twists up for a moment. "I'm not sure about Candidacy. Some days more than others."
Reclaiming the broom as her leaning post, Citlali is a little more careful not to put pressure on the bristles. "Another expert in cleaning? Believe me, I am coming to you next time I need help picking which supplies to use. I keep getting stuck polishing wood -- it's better than that time in the gardens they gave me Miahve's stuff and her my stuff, at least."
"Miahve's stuff?" Barrett frowns, comprehension clearly just not there. "Does she have inferior gardening tools? I guess that would be annoying. It just takes paying attention, I think. That's all tidiness really is. Attention to detail." And a certain tolerance for tedium, perhaps.
"Oh! No -- it was that I ended up with the tools for her job and she had mine. People gave them to us. The gardening staff was playing a prank or something." Citlali at least found it funny, or she does in retrospect. "It worked out fine in the end; we sort of switched jobs." Which was really that Citlali did both jobs, but in that particular instance she didn't mind it, and isn't about to make Miahve look bad.
It seems that Barrett's capable of finding such things amusing, too, hiding a snicker behind his hand, but trying to school his face, as though there's something not right about it. It is her misfortune, after all; she might be able to make light of it, but perhaps he shouldn't. Still, he grins, then. "But if it worked out in the end, that's good. Working with other people can be so hit or miss, sometimes."
Citlali can only nod in agreement, and get out "So far I haven't been having any trouble," before they're suddenly interrupted by a tide of people heading toward the Sands. Catching sight of the two candidates just standing there, an assistant weyrlingmaster obviously disapproving of loitering or something along those lines gathers them up and ushers Citlali and Barrett down in that direction as well.
OOC: An egg touching started happening at this time, so we quickly fadewrapped to go join in!
The Starsmiths say it is the 19th Turn, 5th month, and 25th day of the 10th Pass.
Northern Curve of the Bowl
The dark granite cliff face rises high and stark overhead, a neck-aching view all the way up to the ice-laden peaks of Tooth Crag and its companions. Twin ramps incised in the stone provide ground access to a stair-linked network of well-clawed ledges: north are the junior and retired queens, northeast the Weyrleaders' complex. The constant traffic in this area heightens even further while a clutch is on the sands, as human and dragonkin alike swarm in and out of the gigantic Hatching Cavern to the east.
Southwest is the center bowl, and west are the weyrling barracks. The hustle and bustle of the lower caverns lies south along the bowl's eastern curve.
Citlali has stopped just outside the hatching grounds to, apparently, take a rest -- she's got all the cleaning supplies with her that make it look as if sweeping and dusting the galleries has been her work so far for the day. Her hair is swept up in a messy bun instead of its usual braid or hanging down in loose waves; there are bits sticking out the top, and she's actually got, of all things, a sweatband holding it back from her face. She's actually leaning against the broom rather than finding someplace to sit, and has a distant sort of expression on -- watching the comings and goings of weyrfolk and dragons somewhat blankly.
Whatever Barrett was up to today, he seems to have finished with it, and is headed in the opposite direction, crossing the bowl from the entrance to the caverns, aiming generally for the galleries. For just a peep, perhaps. His own hair is a bit messy and damp, but more in the way of someone who didn't wait for it to dry entirely after washing up. "Hello," he offers, pausing by Citlali on his way over, all good manners. "Too much energy to walk all the way back?"
Broken from her half-asleep reverie, Citlali doesn't start so much as immediately laugh a little, quiet and light, looking down momentarily to her feet. "Oh, you could say something like that, yeah. Those galleries are shining, though. That floor is /perfect/. Not a speck of dust! For maybe two hours, anyway -- I don't know why they wanted it cleaned so thoroughly just to get all messed up again." People are just going to walk on it! Like Barrett! "I must look a little strange."
"Well, if people tracked in more dirt over the dirt that was already there, it would be twice as dirty. And even harder to clean," Barrett points out, as though a tidy floor needs someone to defend its honor. He grins at her, though: "I don't know. Not much stranger than most anybody looks, around here. Nothing a little soap and water won't fix. Er, and a comb. And--well." He'll just leave it there, bouncing for a moment on his toes. "The headband thing might be a bit much. I'm not sure it's worth trying to accessorize when you're cleaning."
"Oh --" Citlali's hand goes up to the band around her hair, fingertips running along the edge, and she shakes her head a little. Another mostly self-deprecating laugh; "It was to keep my hair out of my face, since the loose bits kept falling down! I wasn't too worried about accessorizing, honestly. Which -- might not be all that believable if you've seen my wardrobe? But I swear it was for convenience. Really. And you're right about the dirt; maybe I just took it too far in trying to make it perfect."
One finger toys for a moment with his own bangs. "Might not be a bad idea," Barrett reflects. "For some of those things. The laundry room always ends up with me feeling like someone's mixed all my hair with glue and stuck it to my forehead, and it's not very comfortable--but it might not be very comfortable anyway." He casts eyes in the direction of the galleries. "Now, I'm afraid I might have to take off my shoes just to walk in there."
Citlali shoots him a wicked smile and says in a tone careful to enunciate every syllable, as if this alone made it threatening: "You'd better." She's obviously being at least somewhat sarcastic, though; a quick shrug and she's back to talking about hair accessorizing. "I actually enjoy laundry, even though the stable duties are more my thing since it's what I'd been doing anyway -- I think it's just because it's always so humid it makes my allergies better. Hairbands /are/ useful, though, really -- I've got a very boring black one you can borrow if you want?"
Nose wrinkles up. "Allergies would make the stables bad, I would think--or anything with dust--I guess it would depend what you're allergic to?" Barrett cants his head with the question, then smoothes his hair once more and lets it be. "Maybe I'll ask you about it sometime I get assigned something it might be useful. Been happiest so far, myself, with sweeping and the like. That seems simple enough. I don't mind laundry if I can fold."
"Plants," says Citlali with a more tired smile -- the tiredness, of course, is meant more for the subject matter. "I'm allergic to plants. Pollen. Stable's fine, and as far as I know I don't have that many problems with dust -- you are a very neat person, aren't you," she observes, rather like pointing out the sky is blue. "I didn't mind the sweeping, it just got a little. Much. Galleries're big."
"Well--yes." A very neat person whose neatness may in fact be contagious, seeing as it's not always just his own bed that he's making in the mornings. Barrett actually seems to be pleased that someone has noticed this, though, all smiles. "Yes, they are. That's true. Good broom and get the right trick to it, though--it's not so bad."
Citlali isn't exactly the most /unorganized/ person on Pern; being pretty put together, she has at least been known to make her own bed. But the girl next to her? Maybe not. "And you actually like cleaning," continues the 'duh' observation she's got going for herself. "Candidacy must really suit you! This is a nice broom. Have you met this broom?" She's stopped leaning on it, and so extends it out to him, offering. "Nice wood, good weight."
Hands settle in his pockets, not exactly getting grabby with it, but still Barrett does give that particular broom a good looking over. More the bristles than anything else. "It's getting a little worn. But it's pretty dense. That's a good thing. My mother always said that." A pause, and his mouth twists up for a moment. "I'm not sure about Candidacy. Some days more than others."
Reclaiming the broom as her leaning post, Citlali is a little more careful not to put pressure on the bristles. "Another expert in cleaning? Believe me, I am coming to you next time I need help picking which supplies to use. I keep getting stuck polishing wood -- it's better than that time in the gardens they gave me Miahve's stuff and her my stuff, at least."
"Miahve's stuff?" Barrett frowns, comprehension clearly just not there. "Does she have inferior gardening tools? I guess that would be annoying. It just takes paying attention, I think. That's all tidiness really is. Attention to detail." And a certain tolerance for tedium, perhaps.
"Oh! No -- it was that I ended up with the tools for her job and she had mine. People gave them to us. The gardening staff was playing a prank or something." Citlali at least found it funny, or she does in retrospect. "It worked out fine in the end; we sort of switched jobs." Which was really that Citlali did both jobs, but in that particular instance she didn't mind it, and isn't about to make Miahve look bad.
It seems that Barrett's capable of finding such things amusing, too, hiding a snicker behind his hand, but trying to school his face, as though there's something not right about it. It is her misfortune, after all; she might be able to make light of it, but perhaps he shouldn't. Still, he grins, then. "But if it worked out in the end, that's good. Working with other people can be so hit or miss, sometimes."
Citlali can only nod in agreement, and get out "So far I haven't been having any trouble," before they're suddenly interrupted by a tide of people heading toward the Sands. Catching sight of the two candidates just standing there, an assistant weyrlingmaster obviously disapproving of loitering or something along those lines gathers them up and ushers Citlali and Barrett down in that direction as well.
OOC: An egg touching started happening at this time, so we quickly fadewrapped to go join in!