Xanadu Weyr - Candidate Barracks
A long, low ceiling room opens off the entrance hall to the arena, one wall slightly curved as it is set against the outer wall of the arena itself. Cots are set evenly the length of the room, in two rows, each with its own small press at the foot, for personal belongings. Wide windows are spaced along the outside wall, letting sunlight in, while other lights are available for the night time hours.
It's morning. While the evening had proved to be most enlightening, eventually everyone had shuffled back to the barracks little by little to find wordless and asleep fellows with at least no explanation from Pyriel. He had passed out shortly after Kaede had returned to her own cot, and was oblivious to whatever might of been discussed afterwards between themselves. But now it was time to get up, and at the knowledge of this, the harper curls up tighter upon his bed and throws his blankets over his head. No. Dun wanna.
Iessrien is awake.. and dressed! Well, mostly. He has PANTS on. That's the most important thing, really. He's just wandering back from the hatching arena, wet hair slicked back, towel slung over one shoulder. Shirt and shoes are carried in his hands, the latter being tossed absently under his cot as he returns. What's he been doing at this hour? Bathing, apparently, if the smell of soapsand and the wet hair are any indication, scrubbed clean and ready to start the day before most sane people are up. Well, he's clean anyway. Tossing his shirt atop his clothes press, the lad promptly faceplants into his bed. Zzz.. Well. So much for ready to start the day.
Kiley is actually entirely and utterly lazy this morning, the woman normally usually is one of the first few out of bed in the morning. Her blankets are pulled over her head while her pillow is missing from the top of the bed as she clutches it tightly to her chest. It takes her a moment to sit up sleepily, the pillow still held tightly in her arms. Hair is covering her face, eyes are still closed and then the woman lets out a soft groan as she flops back down onto her back and slowly shifts that pillow up to cover her face. No waking up early today!
Flandynn pads in upon bare feet and wind-mussed hair. The teen hesitates upon the threshold, allowing his eyes to adjust from morning light beyond to the more dim interior of the room. Navigating the maze of cots and sleeping bodies proves to be a fruitless gesture as he gets only so far before a toe strikes a cot strut. *thunk* "Son of a bastard vtol and whoreson…" The teen is dancing up on one foot, biting his bottom lip to keep from tarnishing the ears of sleeping and dreary candidates further. Ow. Just ow. Further complicated are those scattered cots, leaving balance a tenuous thing.
When Flandynn starts a round of cursing, Pyriel peeks out with one slitted eye from beneath his blanket. Another groan and the eye closes again. A few minutes of this, and both eyes crack a bit to watch the hopping around for a while. This does get boring after a time, and the harper kicks off his covers and rises to sitting like a vampire from his coffin. He wears only some thin loosely fitted pajama bottoms. His fluffy hair is a mess, all matted and sticking up in different places from tossing and turning during his rest and he blinks a few times before he yawns widely uncovered. And so it is, that he finds the naked stone wall at the foot of his bed, and doesn't even see it. So. Not. Awake.
Iessrien stirs at the groan from over yonder, possibly having actually dozed off, only barely turning his head so he can peek that way and offering a muffled something that might count as 'Morning' but might just as equally have been 'marzipan' or 'mungbeans'. There's slightly more turning and a bit of blinking when Flandynn toe-stubs over there and starts hopping around, Iess' face scrunching into a vague grimace at the noise, though he offers a somewhat more awake, "You okay over there, man?" fist brought up to cover a partially-escaped yawn. Pyriel's impression of a rising vampire on a nearby cot has Iessrien lifting his head a bit more and then sitting up as well, sigh for what is probably now an increasingly distant chance at getting back to sleep.
Kiley jumps up again at the sound of a thunk, and the sounds of swearing that follows it, through her hair she blinks her eyes owlishly to stare at the noise-maker for a long period of time as she attempts to wake herself with just blinking. This takes too long, however and her chin comes to rest upon the pillow she holds hostage and she stares vacantly at those in the barracks, mainly anyone who makes noise suddenly becomes the center of attention as if she has completely forgotten where she now resides.
Flandynn probably does look a bit like a comical marionette, hopping about one one foot, arms lifted to either side to keep his balance. His face briefly contorts into a cringe, looking down upon that throbbing toe with a note of woe. He plops his butt down upon a convenient cot, and that'd be right on the edge of Iessrien's cot. Hang on, so he doesn't tip it over. "Crackdust… It is always the toe." He wiggles them in experimentation, to make sure all is working. He glances askance at Iessrien, dimples deepening as lips thin in a wry line, looking most serious, "Don't think I can walk another step." His head comes up, noting a couple of looks centered upon him. "Hi. Flandynn. If any of you are in the Keroon area, don't be telling my mom I speak like that. Her soap tastes awful."
The eventual conclusion for sitting up and staring at walls, is that you do at some point realize that you are doing it. Pyriel yawns again, stretching out his body with arms outstretched up above his head before he grunts and drops them again to his sides. A second later, one hand rubs at his face, and he swings his legs around to touch bare feet to the floor. "Faranth!" he exclaims, and retracts the feet finding the cavern floor cold against his toasty toes. He idly drops his attention of Iessrien, keenly aware that this part of his bromance did not likely know about what happened before bed last night. At least as far as he is aware. A quick glance to the still snoring Aqueepoli and deathlike sprawl of Ryeokie, the harper shakes his head before his golden hues relocate to Flandynn. "Meh. I've said worse." he dismisses with a half-hearted shrug, finding Kiley then and arching a brow at the woman.
Iessrien staightens, one arm curved behind and over his head in a lazy stretch while he blinks away any lingering grogginess, and maybe offers Kiley and the others a more decipherable, "Morning," though a somewhat bemused look plays across his face, watching the balance-dance Flandynn is doing. Legs are dragged towards him from the foot of the bed, as the other boy all but plops down there, Iess sitting partly cross-legged and eyeing his fellow candidate up and down for a second or two. Lashes lower, and he offers a bit of a snort, "As long as it isn't falling off," twitching a bit as Py's exclamation has his eyes flicking that way. Alas, Iess is likely totally unaware of any happenings last night, though if Pol's in on it, that's probably not going to last too long. Attention returning to Flandynn, Iess tilts his head, his own wry smile making a brief appearance, "Iessrien. And I'll keep that in mind."
Kiley stares much like an owl, eyes wide until she slowly comes to recognize her surroundings. Her knees are drawn up as she hugs her pillow tighter and stares at Flandynn a moment longer as he speaks. "No. No Keroon.." She answers sleepily, eyes closing for a brief moment before Pyriel's exclamation shakes her from the sleep quite literally as she jumps suddenly. Her eyes still hold that sleepy look as she turns her gaze about those in the barracks and she offers a sleepy smile to Pyriel and then to Iessrien as she breathes a soft "good morning". Slowly, she abandons the pillow and slowly stretches out for the first time of morning. And then she's rolling carefully out of bed, and looking a little more awake as she turns another gaze about the barracks. "Morning."
Flandynn cracks a grin at Iessrien, setting his poor, offended foot back down to the flooring. No squeals or squeaks from him from the coolness, "Good man. Good man." Murky, dark eyes move along towards Pyriel, dark eyebrows lifting up some in silent query, only to be followed by a not-so-shy smile, but it sure pretends to be. He gaze moves along to Kiley, and then he asks the burning question of the morning. "Is being a candidate really that rough that I'll be spending a lot of time snoozing on a cot, and not much wanting to roll out of it?" Just sayin'
Pyriel leans back on his hands where he has situated them just behind his hips only after settling his feet a toe at a time upon the floor. While everyone is saying their good mornings, the harper takes the time to rotate all his piercings. Two at his lips, done. Two at his right eyebrow, done. Both ears, check and double check. Then his hand returns to where it had been a few moments before. "It was a…rough night." he tosses over to Flandynn, stretching his legs out one after the other before stilling to work out all the kinks and tight muscles. "But yeah, yer gunna do a lot of sleepin', sorry man." The new guy smiles at him, and Pyriel just plain looks unimpressed. Beautiful or not, he didn't appreciate overly friendly smiles in his direction from other guys. Grunting somewhat in a 'that better be nothing but friendly or I will destroy you' sort of way, he slides his eyes off the unfamiliar dude and to the barracks in general. He might not be all big and burly, but there was something about Py that just screamed he could mess a guy up. He jerks his chin upwards at Iessrien though now, his way to say good morning, and while he does not smile back at Kiley, he does sorta kinda wave. It's brief but it's there.
Iessrien sighs, hand brought up to massage the back of his neck as he rotates his head, as if working out the kinks, though considering he just got back from a soak, he probably doesn't really need it. He'll at least return Kiley's smile with a less wry one of his own, leaning forward and bending his legs to drape arms lazily over his knees. "Looks like I get to spend the day running around like a wherry," head tilting toward the chore board, "Terrific." Sigh, that work thing again, so inconvenient. "Probably," is in answer to Flandynn's question, "Seems like they want to get the most out of us while they have us," head lifting in a vague nod, to return Pyriel's greeting, and then canting as he regards Flandynn, almost appraisingly, "So what's your deal? You weyrbred like most of this lot? Or did some rider snatch you up too?" lips twitching upward at the corners at that last bit.
Kiley blinks at Flandynn, "depending on what chores you get.. Didn't get to sleep for awhile." The woman offers in a soft response. A cover for her sleepwear is gathered from the foot of her cot and put on before she's moving to her press. Pyriel's assessment of the night is met with a nod of agreement but she doesn't elaborate any further than that nod. Clothing for the day aren't gathered, however, even as the press is open. She makes her way to the chore board and then back to her press before she picks out clothing making sure to be entirely appropriate for her chores. Pyriel's wave is returned though her look is briefly surprised. The clothing is settled on the foot of her cot before she settles down again and pulls the blanket back up so she can sit and watch the going ons of the barracks. Her eyes find Iessrien and she offers a very sympathetic smile. "It isn't always so bad. Sometimes they have the easiest tasks to do…" Sometimes, not always. Then she lifts a brow, "who all is weyrbred?" The woman has only paid attention to the other holdbred.
Flandynn drops his shoulders a tad with a sigh, deflating as the harsh realities of candidacy settle upon him, or something. "Well shells 'n shards, I better find myself a better cot 'cause I swear mine is on three legs and rocks like a ship in a storm." His eyes move off of Pyriel-in-motion, dropping towards that cool floor before lifting anew to look towards Iessrien, "Human trafficking." He looks quite deadpan to Iessrien, most serious at this explanation as to his presence. It really doesn't last for that long though, and the teen shrugs his shoulders once more, the fabric of his shirt rippling in the movement. It goes well with the quirked grin. "Northern-bred. You?" As Kiley moves about, Flandynn's eyes are drawn to her, watching her progress about the cavern with his dark eyes. And yes, he is still settled on the end of Iessrien's cot.
Pyriel convinces himself to get up off his cot and pad over to the chore board with more than a shiver for the fact his feet were still bare, and the floor continued to be cold. "Serve meals? Pffft. Serve yerself." he gripes, stifling another yawn. He shakes his head at the stupid thing before returning to his press, to which he crouches and yanks open, searching it for something, as it was a mess in there, and yanks out a towel and some fresh clothing. While some people might of gotten a bath in this morning, others had not, such as Py. The harper yanks his knot off yesterdays clothing and then makes for the exit. "Gunna get clean." he says to no one in particular, and then he's gone.
Iessrien doesn't seem terribly territorial about the end of his cot, letting poor stub-toed Flandynn settle there while Iess continues to stretch his neck absently, the muscles of his shoulders shifting this way and that beneath bare skin. Self-conscious? Pft. He turns to regard Kiley, smile tilting a little, "I guess so. It /could/ always be worse," and here his nose wrinkles with sudden remembered distaste, "I saw /latrine duty/ on the board yesterday. Poor sap.. maan, I don't envy whoever got stuck with it." He puffs out a breath, shaking his head and then bringing a hand up to brush back damp strands that are probably going to need a comb before long. The girl's question about who's weyrbred gives him pause, Iess taking a good, thoughtful look around the barracks before eyebrows arch slightly, "You know.. I sort of just assumed.." gaze following Pyriel for a second before a thumb idly jerks the guy's way, "Him, for one. My father always said the weyrs usually take from their own, though." Gaze flicking back to Flandynn, there's a soft snort for the 'human trafficking' comment, and a humorless, "Not something I'd joke about around these parts," maybe a slight edge to his voice before he straightens slightly, chin lifting just a fraction, almost unconsciously, "Breakwater hold. Third son of the lord and lady, and all-around lazeabout, according to most of my kin. Well met, and all that."
Kiley blinks at Flandynn for a long moment, her eyes searching him for a moment with a curious tilt of her head before she rests her chin upon her knees and wraps her arms around them. However Pyriel draws her attention once more as he announces his chores and the woman frowns, shaking her head but saying nothing. She doesn't look ready to leave any time soon, likely to avoid the baths while he is there. When he does finally leave she mutters, "he's going to get in trouble if he keeps skipping chores." She sighs and shakes her head, before looking back to Iessrien and making a face at the chores. "Yes, I haven't gotten that, yet." She shrugs thoughtfully, "I think he was born in a Hold? I don't know, his farther was a dragonrider.." But that is all she offers in response. "I'm Kiley, I was born in Cove Hold but I became a Computer Crafter Apprentice and was promoted."
Flandynn abruptly draws to his bare feet, all happy-balance found and a new appreciation for the length of his feet (and a better consciousness of such). He looks after Pyriel, not quite sure what to say in leaving remarks, so he'll go with the better choice and just smile wryly after him. Head swings back around and down to Iessrien, only to fall even deeper into a quickly sketched bow, "A pleasure, mi'lord. My thanks for allowing my ass to use your cot. It appreciated it." He comes back up with a jaunty wink, dark hair flopping 'tween his eyes. That very same movement has him coming about to look towards Kiley, generous appraising in his eyes. He tastes her name, "Kiley… you look like a Kiley. Well, my stomach is growing for food, so it is the kitchens for me. Well met." With that said, the teen makes his way out of the room, keeping clear of any obstacles to his toes.
"Cove Hold?" Iessrien's attention flicks toward Kiley, thin brows arching a little more in faint interest, "I've heard it's pretty much a paradise there," amusement briefly slickering behind his eyes, the holder boy laughing a quiet, "I can't imagine giving something like that up to go into craft." Then again, it's possible he's never been. Crafting is /work/ after all. As for Pyriel, a glance is sent in the direction of the barracks entrance, pondering perhaps, though he's apparently not about to speculate, shoulders lifting a shrug. "His ass on the line," is all the commentary he makes for the skipping of chores, head giving another slight shake. Flandynn's bow is met with a narrow look and another less-soft snort, though no reply, hand only raised absently in farewell.
Kiley is again taken aback by Flandynn, especially for the reaction to her name and the woman gives him an odd look as her gaze follows him from the barracks. A soft sound leaves her lips as if contemplating the teen for a moment longer before she looks to Iessrien again and she smiles in response. "It is pretty, but.." She sighs softly, "most of the family went off to some craft, one of my sisters became a dragonrider. I have two younger brothers and my interests were in computers, not getting married and having children." She stretches her arms out, lacing her fingers together and considering the other. "And I may have gotten into more trouble than I was for taking apart most of the electronics in the Hold." But it ends at that as her cheeks suddenly flush a dark shade and avoids meeting his gaze. "That is true, he tends to do what he wants.." She murmurs, though that doesn't seem to be the only thing she means. Silence lingers for a moment before she looks towards the entrance, considering the last one to exit through those doors. "What do you think of him?"
Iessrien stretches his legs out slightly, elbows resting on his knees as he leans forward, head tilted at an angle to indicate he's listening, though there's less curiosty in his expression and more than a little confusion. "You /wanted/ to go into a craft, though?" is asked after a second, comprehension of this failing slightly, though the holder boy does comment a quietly wry, "I hear you, there," about not having interest in kids or marriage. "Oh yeah?" lips quirk about the possible trouble Kiley may have gotten into, interest sparking as he takes in the girl with a thoughtful look, though at her words about Py, and that blushing over there, pondwater-blue eyes head ceilingwards, and Iess just flops back on his cot, puffing a breath out and settling arms behind his head, damp hair tangling over forehead and down past his ears. "I think his old man messed him up more than he wants to admit," is stated bluntly, though perhaps a bit cryptically, lips twisting into a sort of humorless smile as he adds wryly, "I probably don't need to ask you what you think. It's pretty obvious."
Kiley shrugs her shoulders, "I wanted to learn. I didn't wan to get in trouble for doing something I enjoyed.." The woman muses softly, "and I didn't want to take care of my brothers all the time, either. There were just a lot of things that made me want to go to the craft." Her eyes close and she avoids meeting his gaze for a moment longer, sighing. "But, I kind've regret it." Comes a soft afterthought, her fingers tightening around themselves before she's looking towards the other candidate and offering a smile. "I can understand such sentiments from men more than women, but it is really how I feel." More admittance towards personal things color her cheeks darker. Her gaze slowly finds Iessrien, confusion working into her expression before cheeks color a darker shade and her head shakes frantically. "No! I didn't mean.. I didn't mean /him/. I don't think anything about him, nothing at all. Just because… Because… We got /drunk/ doesn't mean anything. If it were anyone it'd be Ryeo but—" This is cut off suddenly as well as she bows her head to hide her face beneath her arms. "I meant the new candidate."
"Hmm, I see," is Iessrien's response, possibly to Kiley's talk about a craft, giving the ceiling that thoughtful look, again. It might seem like most of the time, the holder boy is examining the stone above is head. Sure must be fascinating or something. "..How come?" he does cant his head to the side, glancing over at Kiley briefly, at her mention of regretting it. There's some quiet contemplation before Iess ventures, "I guess it's usually always the guys that don't want to settle for that kind of thing, marriage and kids.." tone partly sheepish, partly wry. He doesn't seem terribly bothered by this though, turning his gaze to some spot above, "It's definitely not my thing. Too many pretty girls, too much /stuff/ I want to do." The breath he lets out next is almost huffed, barely-contained frustration, though at what, could be debatable. "Mmh, right," rolling his eyes at her protest, but not apparently caring to stick his nose in, either way, "Oh, him?" There's an awkward, lying-down lift of shoulders as he answers about the new guy, "Don't know, I just met him? Has a sense of humor anyway," even if Iess might not fully appreciate it.
Kiley peeks up at the other older, watching him with a wary eye even as he doesn't look back to her except for that brief glance. She doesn't answer right away, keeping her arms straight out while her gaze lingers on him. "Because." Comes her simple answer and she doesn't seem compelled to share beyond that single word as she fixes him with a more stubborn look that dares him to attempt to pull more from her. "I know, more so now. You and.. The Pol," she hasn't heard him really call himself anything else, or if she had, she didn't pay attention. "Have said this many times." But she doesn't judge, or, at least schools her tone to not betray this fact. Her eyes close as she bows her head down to avoid meeting his gaze. "I don't.. I don't think I do…" Comes the soft whine in response, a soft little blubber in what could be considered the start of tears of frustration. Though it only lasts until she takes a deep breath and she lifts her gaze to cast him a small look. "I was just wondering what you were thinking of him.. He seemed… Off. But, maybe he was trying to be funny. I don't know." Kiley and Iessrien are on their cots, it is morning and they have not yet taken off for chores as they have all recently woken.
Re-enter the Py. He is freshly bathed, wearing his trousers with the belt undone, and his shirt clutched in one hand. The other is being used to fluff dry his hair, moving through the area with all the speed of a tranquilized bovine. Yeah, he is in no hurry at all. He pauses before the board again, checking his chore for the day and sure enough it was still serving food. A heavy sigh and he steps away, heading back over to his cot. He casts a look over toward Iessrien, chin lifting a bit. "So what's this I hear about ya thinking my father messed me up?" he asks, pausing before Kiley's bed as he zeroes in on the holder boy. Someone coming or going must of heard what Iessrien said, because Py really did look like he'd gotten out of the bath, and come straight here. He hadn't been eavesdropping outside for any length of time. The harper knows all, sees all. Scary. Towel is dropped around his naked shoulders, and he leans against the end of Kiley's footbar.
Iessrien is still contemplating the ceiling, eyelids lowered in thought, looking almost as if he's ready to drop back asleep. Except after a second, he replies, almost boredly, "Uh-huh." Nope, not interested in pulling anything from her, apparently, letting out a soft snort and then adding, "Just Pol. Or Quee, if you want to see him pissed off." That would be a faint smirk on his face, there. He might just roll his eyes again, though for the girl's possible blubber, but seems to have lost interest in that line of conversation as well, instead semi-shrugging again, "Did seem sort of off, yeah, but who knows? He's from up north. Maybe that kind of thing is funny over there. Kid's probably scared out of his wits being stuck with all of us strange folk," voice turning wry, though how serious he's being could be debatable. Pyriel's entrance isn't immediately noticed till the other boy speaks, and Iessrien twitches, eyes widening to flick in the harper's direction briefly. A leg is raised, calf settling across bent knee while the holder remains stretched on his back, hands behind his head, toes flicking the air towards Kiley's cot, "Thought she was asking what I thought about you, so I told her." Honest at least, and possibly shameless, though lashes lower again, Iess idly watching Py.
Kiley is growing tense at Pyriel's sudden reappearance, his words in fact drawing more of a surprise from the woman. Her face his carefully hidden as he settles before her bed and comes to rest against it. A breath is drawn and she peeks carefully up at him after a moment while cheeks seem to color all over again while fingers find the bracelet that is ever present on her wrist and beginning to twist the chain between her fingers. It really is a surprise that it hasn't broken completely, yet. "Right.. Well, if I ever want to piss him off… I'll remember that." And she really does commit it to memory, likely to whip out if he tries to hit on her once more. "Maybe they are. Or.. He's nervous." At least she still manages to speak while Pyriel is settled upon her cot, but it only lasts until Iessrien is addressing what Pyriel said. She grows quiet, again, fingers continuing to twist the chain of her bracelet and that is where her eyes focus entirely.
Someone in the barracks had a big mouth, though who it was with all the comings and goings this early in the morning is anyone's guess. Pyriel arches a brow when Iessrien finally replies, not so much interested in the weird smiling guy was in here earlier. The harper couldn't even recall if the guy had given his name, not that he particularly cared. Golden hued eyes flicker to Kiley briefly as her name is mentioned in the answer to his question, though they are quickly returning to the holder boy again. "Again, yer opinion of me is that my father messed me up?" he asks, narrowing his gaze. Soon enough he drops onto Kiley's cot properly, helping himself to a seat without her permission. Towel extracted from his shoulders, he does up his belt, and pulls his shirt on, yanking it down to cover the remainder of his nakedness. His feet were already clad in those well worn pair of leather boots, the toes reinforced with steel for kicking things. As an afterthought he gives the laces a sharp tug each, before tucking the excess into the top. That done, he returns his full attention to Iessrien. "I've done a lot of stupid things in my life, most of it cause of the bastard who sired me, but ya don't know me enough to be tellin' anyone that kinda crap. Opinion or no. Yer a lot smarter than yer buddy over there," he jerks his head over his shoulder to indicate the buzzsaw known as Aqueepoli. "So be smart, and keep shit like that to yerself unless ya want to spend the rest of candidacy in the Infirmary." He is being, strangely calm about saying these things, but it was completely artificial. One look in his eyes, shows this is his greatest effort in not beating the ever living daylights out of the holder right then and there. "And just so yer up to date, and we dun got to have a repeat of this conversation. I told Ryeokie last night I was in love with him, cause it's something I needed to say. I'm sure Pol will tell ya all about how I kissed him in front of everyone. Ya can think what ya like, avoid me if ya have to, but I expect ya to be on yer best behavior and keep yer fucking mouth shut if ya don't got something nice to say. We clear?" Brows lift, waiting for an answer. Seems he doesn't even like the implication that his father touched him inappropriately, or did something to him to make him the way he is. That just wasn't gunna fly.
If there's any tension in Iessrien, it's well-hidden, that foot waving idly in the air even as he listens to Kiley, "Nervous, yeah," agreed with a slight smirk, though he stills a bit once Pyriel gets going, head turning to eye the other boy properly. "Think my exact words were, more than you'd like to admit, but," partial shrug there, though eyebrows arch slowly towards his hairline as the other candidate continues. "Wonder who's going to threaten to beat the ever-loving crap out of you the next time you toss off opinions on some girl you did, or.." hand waving, his musings trail off as he's props himself up on an elbow, glancing past Pyriel, to Kiley. There's a steady look given the girl before eyes narrow and flick back to Py, this time a single brow arching all the way to dissapear behind uncombed bangs, "Huh." There's definite surprise about Ryeokie, though suddenly lashes lower in an abrupt vanishing of any trace of a smirk, hand lifted with a, "Fair enough, man." Not really an answer, though Iess does return to the contemplation of the ceiling.
Kiley blinks and shakes her head faintly as Pyriel looks to her with her eyes quickly dropping shortly after he looks away. However the woman scoots back to make room for him as he drops back and takes a seat, her eyes fixate on him and then drift slowly away and her gaze focuses on the wall as her fingers twist the bracelet on her wrist a little more. Again, she settles into a domesticated sort of woman who doesn't speak often unless she is being spoken to; this is the reaction that Pyriel often draws from the woman despite the fact that she is older than him. While she feigns that she is, in fact, ignoring the pair and the conversation, she is listening closely. The recount of the previous night is met with silence as it answers something she did mention before the harper made his return. Her head quickly whips back around to stare at Iessrien with wide-eyes, startled again by the man and giving him a look of confusion as she attempts to figure out the other holder man. Cheeks color again and she ducks her face partially behind her knees, her eyes still visible and watching.
Iessrien might not be looking at Pyriel, but the boy gives him one of his smiles, you know the kind, the one that could melt lead. Which was perfectly fine as far as the harper was concerned. "If it calls for it, I'll take it as it comes. And they can certainly try taking me on," Obviously Py was not concerned about nameless people threatening him. "But me talking about girls, ain't insinuating that their fathers did somethin' funky to them. Is it? Rumors like that spreads around and gets twisted along the way. Or do ya really want people thinking my father molested me and shit?" He really just wanted the guy to think before he spoke is all. "It may not of been what ya meant, man. But some people would think so if they got that info third or fourth hand. Rumors spread like wildfire in a weyr." He obviously didn't care so much if it got around he was with Ryeokie, or else he wouldn't of done and said what he did in front of a barracks full of candidates. He's been watching Iessrien this entire time of course and he takes in the surprise and dramatic change of expression that his news about himself and Ryeokie brought about. If he understood or if it just went over his head like most stuff did, it certainly didn't show. Not that Iessrien was exactly paying any attention to Py at the moment. He nods for the wave, again, unseen by the holder lad. "So we cool then?" Cause while he needed to let the other boy know where the line was drawn, he still needed to make sure they were still bros. Friends, were important. To Kiley then, Py focuses, brows lifting somewhat at what she had been doing while he was talking at Iessrien. He knew nothing women really, except his mother. And he knew even less about holders. What this quiet while the men talk thing normal? "What's up with you?" he asks her, curiously looking her up and down in an appraising way. "Didja lose some weight? Yer looking…different…." And from the sounds of it, he approves of the change. If only he knew.
There's a contemplative look being given to the ceiling again, the holder boy's expression rather more preoccupied than normal, though he does snort softly at the other lad's apparent nonchalance about threats. There might be an eyeroll in there, too, until Py moves on to the next bit. Iessrien blinks. The holder partially sits up to STARE at Pyriel, letting out an utterly blank, "What." There's a few seconds where /that/ sinks in before he mutters a somewhat startled, "Whoa. Whoa, man, that's totally not-" voice briefly aghast, before he just shakes his head. "Shells, that really the kind of thing that goes down in a weyr?" eyes flicking from Pyriel to Kiley, as they've definitely been here longer than he has. Holdbred sensitivites, apparently Iess /does/ have them. He looks very slightly sick. Another soft snort accompanies a quieter, "And I thought they had bad shit about us in the holds," head jerking in the direction of Pol's cot, before he quite abruptly flops on his back once more, face slowly coloring in embarrassement, made all the more obvious by the lack of shirt and damp-darkened hair, Iess looking off somewhere /other/ than his fellow candidates or the ceiling, hand waving an absent, "Yeah, yeah, we're cool. Sorry man." His lips might twitch toward a frown when Py starts questioning Kiley, but Iessrien only crosses his arms under his head again and ponders.. the chore board.
Kiley's fingers twist into the bracelet as she continues to listen, "I don't think that's what he meant." She offers in mention to Pyriel's statement of Iessrien's meaning, but then the mention of rumors being twisted she gives a faint sound of understanding before returning to silence while fingers continue to work at the chain. It breaks under the stress, but instead of the swears that may have followed like the first time, she only remains silent and gathers the broken chain with a thoughtful frown crossing her brows. Then Pyriel turns attention to her again and her gaze finally returns to meet his and the woman gives a slight shrug in response, "didn't want to intrude." She insists, but the reasoning is not given. There is the lingering bits of fear when it comes to the harper. Confusion crosses her features as he appraises her and questions her weight, cheeks flush and she nods slowly. "Yes. I've lost some weight." Cheeks color a little more as her fingers continue to twist and play with the broken chain.
Pyriel shrugs a shoulder vaguely at Kiley, "Dun matter if that was what he meant or not. Ya gutta be careful whatcha say and to who and where." He then slides his golden hues back over towards Iessrien. He regards the other boy with a cool detachment for now, tongue emerging from his mouth to swipe over his lips to wet them before he speaks again. "It can happen. Ya. Rather not be having that kinda shit floating around on top of everyone thinking I'm shardin' gay." Even though he confessed to be in love with a guy. Oh well, to each his own. There is a long sigh, and Py runs his hand through his now completely dry and fluffed hair, shaking his head a bit at Iessrien. He'd of course seen all the eye rolling and heard the snorting. There might of been a narrowing of the harpers eyes as he observed the holder, suspiciously, but it was very brief. He's distracted when Iessrien colors and flops around, tilting his head slightly. Twas a good thing that Py was thick, because the harper just shakes his head for all that. "Cool." That was his acceptance of the other boy's apology. Then to Kiley, the blond's brows relift to disappear beneath the jagged fringe of his bangs. He is completely puzzled by the soft and quiet nature she was showing him, but lets it go. He does grin at her though when she flushes. Lashes lowering to her bracelet. "Ya want me to fix that for ya?" he asks. And just like that, Py had made up his mind about Kiley.
That chore board must be terribly interesting, because Iessrien eyes it for some time, or at least long enough for the color to die down some in his face. In the meanwhile, he will mutter a, "..Definitely not what I meant," in agreement with Kiley, though he snorts softly again, an exasperated puff of air out through his nose, "Shells, just as bad as the holds. Don't say this, watch how you phrase that," quiet groan as he rubs a hand over his face and back through his hair, though if the underlying irritation is focused on Pyriel or on the weyr as a whole, who knows. It probably wouldn't matter if Py were as psychic as /Lessa/, Iessrien's not about to explain what he does or why, merely glancing back at the other two after awhile, eyelids partly lowered, observing them with almost absently.
Perhaps it is simply Pyriel that makes the woman take such a nature as she tends to show a more comfort around others usually, especially those who she spends more time with. And she has certainly spent a lot of time with the harper. The bracelet is shyly given over at the question and she smiles in response, "thank you." Though the soft and quiet nature remains as she settles into a more relaxed state, she visibly relaxes as well. Kiley turns her gaze to Iessrien and smiling at the other candidate, "I think it can be.. Easier, it is just that rumors spread more quickly?" The look she gives Pyriel is to confirm this as she is still rather clueless when it comes to rumors and such. Her gaze doesn't drift from the harper once her gaze settles upon him once more, watching him with a curious interest.
Golden eyes flicker over towards Iessrien, but Pyriel says nothing more at this juncture. It was true that the lad was dense, but he adapted as things changed around him, and he met and befriended new people. Despite his nature to repulse at first meeting. He takes the bracelet from her carefully, taking a pernese equivalent of a Swiss army knife out of his pocket and he fiddles with the many tools that the thing comes with before finding a pair of tiny pliers. Leaning over himself, he applies the pliers to the bracelet, squeezing here and pinching there. Folding the pliers away, he puts the thing back in his pocket and then reaches over, applying clasping the jewelry back into place. He slips a finger between the woman's wrist and the bracelet and gives it a sharp tug upwards. The thing goes no where. It wasn't about to fall off again anytime soon. "There ya go." That done, he extracts himself from her and sits back again. At what she says, he blinks a few times. Not following. "Huh?" he asks intelligently, scratching idly at his own cheek.
Iessrien considers the two, though more Kiley than Pyriel, as she's the one speaking to him. "Hmh," is a vague sound of agreement, the holder boy thinking that over for a few seconds before he replies, "..Don't know, really. Spreads pretty fast through the holds, too. Though I guess," lips twitching as the wryness returns, "holders don't have dragons to gossip with each other across whatever distance. Do they do that? Gossip all across the weyrs?" As if the other two might know. He muses this for a bit, head tilting back again to ponder, "Still, everywhere's the same though. Here, or the holds. Shells, it's probably the same on some trader caravan too," nose wrinkling with slight disgust at the thought of that, "All the same. Except back home, never got threatened to beat the crap out of anyone for doing something they disliked," eyes narrowing briefly on Pyriel. And maybe he's doing some adapting of his own, as it's another of those appraising looks, but just as quickly his eyes flick away, Iess sitting up and stretching, with another glance at the chore board. "They better not be expecting me to actually run anywhere with those messages," us mumbled absently, "Not unless they want me getting lost in all those offices," scooting to the edge of the bed to retrieve his boots.
Kiley's gaze falls upon Pyriel's tending to her bracelet and she watches with interest, having never done such a good job at her own mock repairs to the poor abused jewelry, so she merely looks intrigued. Her smile grows wider in response and she pulls her knees in close. "Thank you." She repeats before her head is shaking in response to the harper's own. Iessiren earns her full attention as she shrugs in response but a nod shortly follows. "Gossip and rumors tend to be everywhere." She agrees, but is quickly silencing herself as he looks to Pyriel with his last statement. The mention of chores has her abandoning her blankets and grabbing the fresh clothes from the bed. "I should go wash before breakfast." A polite nod follows this and she carefully makes her way from the barracks to do just that.
Pyriel's chin lifts ever so slightly as Iessrien when the holder narrows his eyes at him. A haughty expression that strangely boosted his beauty, rather then merely made him appear cold and distant. He was a harper after all, and it was all about expression and tone of voice for them. At least with his training there, he wasn't quite so thick. Still, the way his golden eyes darted up the down the other boy in that appraising fashion only lasts as long as the other's does and then Py is giving his attention to Kiley. He smiles softly at her, unrestrained, and bobs his head once before he gets up and stretches, his shirt lifting and exposing his mid-drift and navel for a heartbeat or two before his arms drop and he shuffles over to his cot. "Right then. Harper lessons…then…serving food…whatever the shells that means." He always had to get his own stupid food. What the hell? He snags up his guitar, slinging it across his back and is soon departing after Kiley. He pauses in the doorway, sparing Iessrien a glance, head tilted back a bit. "If ya need some help finding places, lemme know kay?" This is tossed over to the holder boy with a soft smile before he's too as gone as the computer crafter was.
"Mmh, they tend to be. I stopped worrying over them a long time ago," lips twitching up at the corners in a thin, humorless smile. Iessrien tilts his head to Kiley a moment as he tugs on his boots, lacing them up tightly before finally moving to his clothes press for a clean shirt. A hand is lifted absently with a, "Later," though he doesn't look up, idly rummaging for a comb. Once he's dressed, the comb is pulled almost absently through mostly-dry hair, the dark stands falling into their customary style without the neccessity of a mirror. Iess pauses to glance Pyriel's way when the other boy speaks, though the smile isn't returned, the harper simply receiving a brief nod and a quiet snort of acknowlegement before Iessrien turns back to the clothes press, shifting things about in search of his knot. He departs not long after the others. Hopefully, he doesn't get lost on the the way to the headwoman's office, because Faranth knows, he isn't going to stop and ask for directions.