Fareia is very close to that dying grass, thankyouverymuch. "Hey, watch where you're puttin' that thing, Deba!" A small plant's root system covered in dirt suddenly flies out the bush, where Farie is crouched. The candied healerite stands up after the flying weed and places gloved, dirt covered hands on her hips. "Oh, hi..." The rake gets a raised eyebrow and she holds out a handful of leaves and roots,"I'll trade ya' weeding for raking."

Debajirin ignores Fareia's warning, at least until he's gotten the grass neatly uprooted and killed. "Well, don't stand so close to things that are obviously so rakeable. Like this grass here. And there," at which point the rake is jabbed at another tuft of grass, equally as close to the other candidate. "Hi. What, weeding? At least weeding's /defined/. Raking, oh, just rake. Rake what? Maybe the grass, not that there's really any properly dead stuff to rake up," he groans, finishing with the nearest patch and then considering the trade. "Umm... No. Because you can do so much more damage with a rake than with gloves."

Fareia whines slightly as she looks at her handful of weeds. "Raking is so /defined/. Besides, if there's nothing to rake, then no one can claim that you didn't do your chore." Weeds in hand are tossed into a basket, most of them landing next to it instead of in it. "You can do damage with gloves...Sort of..." Watch out! Farie mighht weed you to death! A help less shrug and she crouches back down, poking at a particularly large weed, then grasping it with both hands and yanking it out of the ground.

Debajirin hmphs, digging the rick conveniently into a clump of dirt and rocks, hard enough to cause a little spark against one of those rocks. "Ah, see, thank you. Another reason for me to keep to my chore, and you to keep to weeding." Huzzah, Deba logic again! "Oh, and what sort of damage would that be?" is asked after a moment of dispersing those rocks before he leans up against the rake casually. "Maybe you could slap someone with 'em, but other than that. And look at those big weeds there. What's the point of going for the harder task?" Just cause he's big and burly and manly, he's not gentlemanly in the least.

Fareia stands up again, clasping her gloved hands in front of her and putting on her big innocent eyes. "Well, you wouldn't want me to get hurt or anything trying to pull those /big/ weeds, would you?" she asks, voice dripping with sweetness. The power of being female. A blink with those long lashes and she tosses the the weed she'd just pulled into the basket. 
Kristiana pages, "After Monday, I will be superRPable and you'd better RP! ;)"
You paged Kristiana with: From afar, Debajirin will, then. I'll like, do homework in spares and at lunch and everythin'!

Debajirin raises an eyebrow at her, near falling off his rick (couldn't resist, I mean rake, but some things can't be left unsaid). "Well, no, that would really truly be quite terrible, but what am I to do? I mean, I could maybe try and show you a better technique, y'know, but you seem so good at it already. And besides, girls who are in shape have been known to be incredibly attractive." He's trying to weasle away from eyelash batting, in short, and feels himself floundering.

Fareia smiles maliciously, taking another step towards Deba. Serafa must be a bad influence on Farie or something. Gloves are slipped off and dangled in front of Deba's face,"Glad you think so." Eyelash batting seems to work very well on Deba. Every man has a weakness. "But I'm positive you're just /so/ much better at pullin' those big ol' weeds, all /strong/ like you are." A small pout and she tilts her head, looking up at the CandieBoy through wide eyes.

Debajirin leans away slightly as he's stepped towards, eyeing the dangled gloves, and taking the rake with preparation to go about his task quite meticulously. "Oh, umm.. Yes, me to. I'm glad too, I mean." He closes his eyes rather pointedly against any eyelash batting. "Maybe I am, I like the outdoor work, but I'd hate to steal your chance to prove yourself superior, so-" one eye is opened so that he can be sure he's not going to rake anyone's toes, "-I'll just let you continue." And the rake is shoved roughly over the ground and he closes his eyes again. Nope, not happening. He's strong. *cough*

Fareia wrinkles up her nose and scowls when he closes his eyes, quite frusterated that this isn't working quickly enough. Besides, Farie doesn't have to /prove/ herself superior. She already is. She lets Deba rake for the moment, formulating a new plan, replacing her innocent pout and wide eyes and saying in a soft, innocent voice,"Well, I /guess/ I can give it a try..." She sidles over to a particularly big weed, leaning over to grab the top, tugging on it very slightly. "Oh, I just can't seem to get this one," she declares loudly. Damsel in distress. An eyelash bat goes to Deba,"Think you could help me with this one? I'm everso sure that you could pull it up in a second."

Debajirin is still raking, and that's all, he swears. "Oh, aye, trying sounds like a downright wonderful idea!" Cause then maybe she'll stop playing with his hormones like this. Eyes go open again, creeping around towards Fareia, enough to see her failed attempt. "Oh, can't you? That's too bad. Maybe try grabbing it lower and using your legs to pull? I doubt I could do much better. Unless..." Rake is raised over his head, and he positions himself in such a way that he might aim at the troublesome weed. "... you wanna stand back, and we'll see if we can unroot it another way?"

But playing with hormones is fun! The weed is grabbed farther down and she gives a weak pull,"Oh shards, I stll can't get it." A gleaming smile forms on Fareia's face and she goes to stand beside Jirin,"Mm-hm. Why don't you try it your way." Well then. As long as she doesn't have to dig around in the dirt, that's just fine. Who cares how he's weeding? As long as it's not Farie-falaffel doing the weeding. 

Debajirin watches the second attempt on her part with something of a skeptical eye. "I don't think you're trying hard enough," is finally noted under his breath, and then, a she clears the target area, he brings the rake down. Hard like. And it sticks, and the handle wobbles, and his arms wobble, and Deba wobbles. Once the wobbling has stopped, he pries upwards, managing to unroot the thing, sure, but send a spray of dirt in his general direction a well, which he ducks from. The girl can frend for herself. "That didn't work!" is muttered through his dirt shower.

Fareia coughs as she is splattered with dirt. "I noticed," she mutters, dantily bending downto pluck the uprooted weed from the ground, dropping it in the basket. "Well then, I am obviously more capable of this than you are." Try yet another strategy. Reverse psychology. "I mean really, no wonder the riders gave me weeding instead of you. I'm /much/ more efficient at it." Maybe all boys are prideful enough to be stupid and take Farie's chores. Most of them certainly are. Hopefully Deba's not an exception.

Debajirin frowns as he brushes annoyedly at some of the dirt that's lodged itself in his hair, and down the back of his shirt, and the like. "You most probably are," he replies with a note of triumph. Cause this means he's won, as far as he's concerned, and he's developed something of an ego over candihood, so winning is a big thing. "Well, that's probably why they gave me raking. I probably do that best, after all." Consoling his ego and ignoring any taunts. He may be conceited of late, but he tries not to be stupid, he really does try. "You might give me lessons some day. Not today, however. I'm busy." And the rake is shoved into a patch of dirt.

Fareia must be having an off day or something. She's not won. What is happening? A slight sigh and she succumbs to weeding, crouching down and digging at a weed. "Deal, then. You give me lessons in raking and I'll give you lessons in weeding and then we can trade." And of course we all know that raking is much easier than weeding, especially when there's nothing to rake. So it's an even trade, right?

Debajirin is positively beaming by now, all smug and triumphant and the like, and showing it quite openly, though he's got tact enough not to point his face directly to Fareia. "Alright, later though. Cause I'm quite busy." Note how that patch of dirty has become rather smooth and beautiful looking? "Though, of course, talking is always an option as well. Just so long as we're both doing our work and won't be sacrificed to latrine duty." Shudder for latrine duty. "So... How're you?" He's trying not to sound condescending, honest he is.

Ilara steps out into the bowl, just sort of strolling along, off of chore-duty for the time being.  "Hey, what's up?" SHe asks, curiously, at the triumphant-looking deba and the unhappy seeming Fareia.  "Did I miss something?"

Fareia grumbles slightly as she weeds, scowling and unhappy that she didn't get her way. She grabs her basket of weeds and simply plops down amongst a small overgrowth. A wave and a slight shrug goes to Ilara,"Deba won't help me with my weeding." In other words, Farie couldn't trick him into doing it for her. "Oh, I'm not bad, apart from beign stuck /weeding/."

Debajirin bonks the rake on the ground in hello to Ilara before moving to another uneven patch of dirt, and attempting to make it as smooth and gorgeous as the first. "Lots of stuff is up. Dragons. Clouds. Dirt clods." Though the last is mostly his fault. "You never asked me to /help/ you with your weeding," he retorts to Fareia, pausing in the all-important raking to drop a hand to a hip and cock his head at her. "You asked me to do it. Which is entirely different. And I did help you once. Just resulted in a shower of dust, that's all." He gaze goes back to Ilara. "Don't believe a word she says." And then, in a whisper that's intended for all to hear. "She's sad cause I don't love her enough to take her chores."

Fareia just childishly sticks her tongue out at Deba, tossing a clump of weeds at his forehead. Then a sniffle,"You don't love me, Deba?" she asks jokingly while yanking another system of weeds from the ground. 

Debajirin deflects the clump of weeds with the handle of his rake, smiling. "Y'know, without a patch over one of yer eyes, your hand-eye coordination increases by leaps and bounds," is commented by the Candied Fish, who's still thrilled with the fac that he can do things like that now. And it's been so many months too. "Not particularly. I mean, you're a nice enough girl, but I don't think I'd be ready for too many relationships that are so serious. I've already promised at least-" a pause for the mental calculations "four other girls that I'd love them, and it takes some time, falling in love and the like, unless you're really shardin' lucky." Ahem.

"Oh, this is just /great/!" Squaln says as he makes his way into the Bowl.  Upon arrival, he grips the sleeve of his shirt and eyes it with utter annoyance. He's ripped another one of his shirts while aiding a woodsmith who was building a shed.  But noooo.. His 'friend' just /had/ to volunteer him to go for the job.  Sigh.  "I go through shirts like I go through socks.." Mutter.

Shards. THat's two times in a row that Fareia's proectile didn't hit her target. The boys are just too fast these days. "Awww. Can't you make it five?" As Squaln is spotted she points to the other CandieBoy,"Well Squaln loves me, don't you, Squal?" A blink at his statement,"Socks do last a while, you know..." But Squal's an odd one. We'll forgive him for ruining his socks.

"/You/ wear /socks/?" Debajirin gapes at the other male of the candidates garthered 'round the bowl, pointing his rake handle at him and shaking his head. "You have to be special to wear socks, you know." Still staring at Squaln in awe and wonder, he goes back to his raking the dirt piles, and shrugs to Fareia. "Five is a lot, y'know, it'd be a long time. You'd have to be thrown into the queue... And I don't know who I'm gonna love permanent-like either. And even if I do, I'm not tellin' yoooou," is added in a sing-song voice. His mood has warped once again.

Squaln looks up after his name is spoken and sees Fareia not too far away.  A wave is given to her and Debajirin in greeting, along with a half smile. "Everybody loves Phar." he states while looking over his ragged shirt sleeve once more.  Shrugging, he lets go of the tattered sleeve and puts his hands into his pockets, swaggering over to his fellow candidates as he does.  "So what's going on?" is asked.

Fareia beams at Squaln then turns to Deba, nose wrinkled up and she points,"Seeee. /Everybody/ loves me. So you should too." A desicive nod and she holds up a weed for Squaln to see. "Weeding. Care to help?" Of course Squal will help. Because he loves Phar, right? Basket of uprooted weeds is shoved out in front of her to be more prominently displayed. See, doesn't weeding look fun?

Debajirin offers an amused grin to Fareia after Squaln's question. And how many times is that gonna be asked today, hmm? "We're doing chores. I get to rake. There's nothing to rake. So I rake dirt. She gets to pull weeds. There are weeds. Pity, that." Just a touch of irony colours his tone, though he'll drop it soon enough. "Not everybody. Cause I don't yet. I think you're delightful, I've just found myself not quite head-over-heels yet, that's all. Give me some time, maybe." He'll come around.

Squaln quirks a brow and tries to come up with a quick, and effective, excuse to give this time.  "Umm.." He says first.  "Actually, I've got kitchen duty within the candlemark and I can't really show up all dirty and stuff.  Ya know?"  Heh heh.  Riiight.  Good one, Sqa.  "Wouldn't want to get any dirt into them tubers while I commence the peeling!"  Ahem.  Jir is nodded at and then he starts to walk away whistling.  

It's going to be asked quite a few times, just so Fareia can prove that everyone loves here. A slow nod goes to Jirin,"Okay, I'll give you a few days. You'll come around." An almost-glare goes to Squal and she rabs one of her many throwing weeds, chucking it at the back of his head. This one shouldn't be able to be blocked. "Oh, I'm sure they won't mind. Besides, you have to wash your hands first, anyways," she calls out to the escaping Candie.

Debajirin grins for Squaln's excuse. Anyone with an excuse to not do weeding is his friend of late. Part of his torturing personality, no doubt. "Oh, definately. Y'know, those tubers have to be absolutely clean, or where would we be? People could get sick!" And then he gives a bit of a compulsive giggle. "Alright, well, if I don't though, don't blame me. It's... Kuk's fault." When all else fails, blame the sock puppet. "Wait, Squaln! Where are you going! At least stay and chat!" Pssh, some people.

Maybe the thrown weed can't be blocked, but it can be ducked!  Which Squaln does very quickly.  Heh!  Reflexes like a /feline/, has he.  Standing straight up again and turning around to view his peers once more, that same authentic grin returns to his expression.  "Weelll, I guess I've got some time to spare before scrubbing them nasty kitchen floors."  Notice how the weed subject has been conveniently dropped?  Smirk.  "I'm actually getting really sick of doing the same chore day in and day out.  Them cooks know everything about me." Shudder.  Evil cooks.

Fareia sighs exasperatedly. That's three for three! What's up with Farie's aim as of late? "Maybe, if you help weed then you'll be so dirty the cooks will just kick you out of the kitchens?" Hey, it's an idea. A stare goes to Deba,"Why is it Kuk's fault if you don't love me, hm? You always blame everything on him, poor guy." Oh no, Farie's lost it. She's talking about the sock puppet like he's a person.

Debajirin shrugs to Fareia, rubbing at the back of his head. "It's because... He's... Stealing my love! That's it! So there's not enough to go around. Nasty fish puppets, they can't be trusted around emotions. Theives, they are!" His goive has been goin higher and higher throughout his rant, and at the crack on the word 'are' he ends it, giving a bit of a cough. "Poor you," is offered to Squaln. "So you do all kitchen chores? Been gettin' a lot of those lately myself, but never had to scrub floors. What's it like?"

Squaln grins, rocking back on his heels and then forward again, hands still in his pockets.  Blue optics flick back to Phar and a lazy shrug is rolled from his shoulders.  "I don't like dirt.." is the wildly quick excuse he gives again.  Ahem.  The herder-candidate clears his throat again and continues to rock back and forth in a rhythmic manner.  Just then, and quite suddenly, his name is screamed from the direction of the kitchens.  Cringe.  "Well, looks like my break is cut short.  I'll talk to you all later!"  He then reluctantly heads off in the opposite direction.

Fareia blinks at Squal. That was just too easy for him to escape. A stare of disbelief goes to Deba,"The sock puppet is...stealing your love?" Riiight. Suuure. Of course. "If fish puppets are that untrustworthy, then why don't you just get rid of him?" The CandieBoy is boxing himself into a corner. He should just give up and declare his love of Farie. Or his love of weeding. Which ever one works.

Debajirin hmphs at Squaln as the he departs, attention drawn rather conveniently quickly back to Fareia. "But of course he is! Who else would be? Okay, we'll not actually get into that," ooh, Deba's bluuuushing, "but yes, him too." And the fisherman undergoes a major attempt to regain control of the temperature in his face. And fails. "But, I can't get /rid/ of him! I made him! He's mine! I love him back too, y'know, and he loves me, and we really are happy together, despite it all."

Fareia sighs at Deba. Some people may think he's crazy. But as a former mindhealer-to-be, she knows that he is simply in denial. "Deba, you have to realize, that if Kuk really loved you, then he would want you to love others and not steal your love," she says in her soothing psychologist voice. From an outsiders point of view, this might be funny. But as Farie and Deba know, this is all quite serious, right?

Debajirin drops the rake, falling into a cross-legged position, wrapping his arms about his torso, and rocking back and forth, shaking his head. "He does love me though. /You/ don't understand! /You/ don't see the look in his little wooden beady eyes when we talk. You don't know how he'll kiss my cheek 'fore I fall asleep. You talk as if you do, but you don't!" Snuffle. Spontaneously, knees are pulled up to his chest, and arms wrapped around those instead, the fisherman chanting, "My Kuk loves me enough to keep me away from others, my Kuk loves me enough to keep me away from others," in time to his swaying.

Fareia wanders over to Deba, walking on her knees, sitting next to him and giving him a comforting pat on the shoulder. "By keeping you away from others, Kuk is just being selfish and uncaring. Try taking a nice wide look at things," she suggests helpfully, trying to supress a giggle.

Debajirin sniffs again, hiding his head between his own knees as she approaches, and pulling away, all in a mock, of course, at the shoulder pat. "No. By keeping me away from others he's protecting me. That's what he says. And I believe him." Here he looks up at her, lip quivering. "Cause I love him!" Cue sobs and the fisherman hides in his knees again.

Fareia sighs and rests a comforting hand on Deba;s shoulder. "Protecting you from /what/, Deba?" she asks, still in her soothing voice. Straight face wavers, flickering from a smile back to a serious expression every few moments.

Debajirin blinks back up at her, despite himself, eyes not quite as red as would be needed for it to be believable, but red enough from a series of blinking when hidden in his knees. "From... He says from... Getting hurt! But he's the one hurting! Like, Kristi, or Isoldi, or you, or Serafa, or Yulianna, or Rowann, or Nyla, or Kilbane, or any of 'em wouldn't hurt me! But he /does/!" The man is quite suddenly on his feet, shivering a bit. "But no more... I'm gonna go back, and I'll have a big talk to him." He's halfway through leaving, rake forgotten on the ground, before he turns around to add, "after dusting the Living Caverns."

D'baji: The Incomplete Logs