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Igen Weyr Candidates' Barracks(#309RAJL$)
This cavern is slightly smaller than the inner cavern, and seems to hold in it the breathless anticipation of a history of hundreds of Candidates. The warm red sandstone is inviting, and a few tapestries hang here and there, depicting scenes of the hopes of the youths who stay here: dragons. Cots line the walls, and a few chairs and a comfortable rug sit in the middle, for an evening chat about weyrlife or a whispered conversation speculating who will be chosen by the inhabitants of the eggs on the Sands.
 
Teria rolls over on her cot, the sheet more on the floor then on the bed. "Is it morning - already?"

Leyla mumbles in her sleep, the noise making her turn away from it in her cot. No, it cannot be morning now. The state of her clothing shows that this candidate has definately been awake earlier in the morning.

Rulyn is just lying on his back, wide awake. Staring at... nothing really, thought his eyes are pointing at the stone ceiling. "It's morning," he concurs, softly.

Teria groans and buries her head under the pillow. "Make it go away."

Rulyn succumbs to temptation, taking his pillow out from behind his head and throwing it so it lands, with a whumpf, atop Teria's pillow. "There. It's gone," he announces in a voice toned soft, to not carry through the barracks, but deep enough to carry.

Teria's head comes out from under the pillows, a second after the second one lands on her. She blinks at Rulyn sleepily, unerringly divining he was the culprit. "Umph."

Rulyn inevitably is the culprit. He lacks a pillow, and he lies there, head back on his cot, looking like he lacks a pillow. "I tried," he says.

Teria tosses the pillow back at Rulyn, yawning wide enough to swallow a dragon. "Thanks, then."

Rulyn comments, "You ever think if you lie here long enough, you won't have to go muck, after all?"

Teria nods, propping herself up on an elbow. "But it never works - I tried it once!"

Rulyn remains there. "I'm thinking this time it'll work," he says, ever hopeful.

Teria chuckles. "Maybe if you hid under the sheets, they wouldn't see you."

Rulyn tugs up the sheets to give this a good try, pulling them over his head. "There," he says, his voice muffled light from under the sheet. "I'm not here."

Teria grins, and tosses her own pillow over on top of Rulyn's head. "I'll let them know!"

Rulyn's fingers appear from under the sheets to pull the pillow tightly over his head. "Thiff workff," his voice comes from under the pillow.

Teria calls, face suddenly thoughful, "Rulyn?"

Rulyn holds the pillow in place. "Yeff?" he asks, sceptically.

Teria says "In the rather unlikely chance you don't Impress - you going to stay here, or go back to Telgar?"

Rulyn finally feels a primeval need to breathe, and so he stops smothering himself with the pillow, and even peeks out, holding the pillow beneath his chin to look over at Teria on her cot. "That's a good question," he says softly.

Teria swings her legs over the side of her cot, sitting up. "Not that the answer'll ever be tested."

Rulyn finds that having a real conversation from on his back on his cot isn't the most conducive, so he, too, sits up. "You shouldn't say that," he says, "I have as much a chance of impressing or not impressing as anyone else here."

Teria grins confidently, "You'll Impress. I have it on very good authority."

Rulyn truly scowls. "No one knows who'll Impress," he counters. "Who's your good authority?"

Teria claps a hand dramatically to her chest. "Why, me of course! I'm a wonderful authority!"

Rulyn grins, now. "Well, my thanks to your good authority," he says "But somehow it almost scares me when people say I'll Impress."

Teria pauses, then nods ruefully. "I know the feeling. It's not very comfortable."

Rulyn tilts his head against the stone wall. "As for the Telgar thing... When I first came, I was sure I'd go back if I didn't Impress," he begins, thoughtfully.

Teria reaches for her brush, beginning to pull it through her hair as she listens, asking, "That's changed, then? You're not sure anymore?"

Rulyn closes his eyes, head still tilted against the wall. "I'm not sure anymore. I guess what's changed is..." he thinks about that, then opens his eyes. "Me. I've changed." He flashes a grin before continuing, "You know, things were rather, well, routine at Telgar. I was telling Tethry last night, I could have spent turns there, doing the same tannerwork, adoring the same woman, avoiding the same madman..." A bit of rolled eyes. "But then, by coming here, I was suddenly out of that rut, and I realized... you know. A world full of possibilities."

Teria continues running her brush through her hair. "Do you ever worry that it will close back in again? I do. If I don't Impress, I think I'm expected to go back to being a nanny the way I was before."

Rulyn looks at you with a solomn nod. "I do worry," he says. "Or wonder. Wonder how I can keep from getting in a rut, again. I feel so..." he looks around the barracks and laughs. "I feel alive, and like the possibilities are wide open, because I have no clue what my future holds. I don't know if I could keep that same feeling, once I know."

Teria grins and stands, tossing the brush aside. "If life was always a challenge, would that be a rut? Since it was constantly challenging? I wonder."

Rulyn laughs, still sitting there, but as the brush is tossed aside, seeems to realize he has his own grooming to attend to, and grabs his comb. "So you want to be holdless?" he grins.

Teria smirks. "Certainly. Run off with me, Rulyn, we'll start our own renegade group!"

Rulyn's eyes spark at that. "Our renegade group would be well-dressed in leather," he says. "And that would certainly keep us outta the ruts." Then he adds, "But then, some renegade woman would have a baby, and since you're so good at it, you'd be tending the little, and soon, there we'd be, living out in a cave, and back in the ruts again." But he's smiling.

Teria shakes her head. "Oh, no. I'll be the leader. They don't have to tend the littles. And we'll live off stolen ovines."

Rulyn waggles his eyebrows. "Ovine thieves. The notorious band of Teria's Ovine Thieves," he says, trying out the sound.

Teria chuckles. "I like it. Or Rulyn's Ovine Robbers?"

Rulyn sits up straight. "Rulyn's Ovine Robbers. I like that," he grins, then concludes, "So. If you and I don't impress, we've got a good backup plan."

Teria laughs, bounces off her cot to walk over with her hand held out. "Deal?"

Rulyn takes the hand in his. "Deal," he agrees, grinning broadly.

Teria inquires innocently, not withdrawing her hand, "Weren't you hiding from mucking?"

Rulyn tugs on the hand, not to withdraw it, but to perhaps pull you a tad closer. With a sigh, he responds, "You were right. It's no good."

Teria sits down on the cot a foot or two away, suggesting, "Try putting the sheet back over your head? You'll have to be better at stealth to be an ovine robber." Her eyes are twinkling.

Rulyn scoots over to be next to you. "I guess I'll need stealth lessons. Maybe if I'd been practicing with pinking boots, or something."

Teria ducks her head, a bit embarrassed. "How did you hear about that one?"

Rulyn is grinning, absolutely delighted at the reaction. "You told me," he says.

Teria says "I did?" She sounds genuinely startled. "Oh, shards. I did, didn't I?"

Rulyn bobs his head. "Yes, ma'am. You did." Then, suddenly, "Hey. D'you know who in the weyr cuts hair?"

Teria reaches out with her free hand to tug at the hair in question. "Ask around - there's any number of people. Tasya cut my hair last time."

Rulyn lets his head be tugged along with the hair. "I am asking around," he says. "I started with you. Should I ask her? I was thinking... Rulyn the Rustler can't have long hair. It'd get caught in bushes, stuff like that."

Teria suggests, laughing, "You can always braid it. I wonder what you would look like with a braid."

Rulyn pulls his hair back, and starts to braid it. "I'll show ya. But I've been thinking of cutting it off. Like, I feel different, I want to look different."

Teria nods. "Fair enough. I can cut hair, too, you know. Just not very well."

Rulyn's fingers work quickly, criss-crossing the strands. "I don't think it takes much skill, to get it short." He grins, "But I'll ask Tasya." He holds the end of the braid. "There."

Teria leans back to get a proper view, nods appreciately. "I like it. I had no idea you were so good at braiding!"

Rulyn laughs at this. "What's to be good at? You just twist over twist over twist. I usually braid it if I get roped into washing a dragon."

Teria folds her hands in her lap, grinning. "Some people just can't do decent braids. that's all."

Rulyn pats the top of his head. "I dunno if it's decent," he says, "But it would stay outta my way."

Teria confirms, "It is."

Rulyn flushes, if slightly. Then points out, "Well, you hafta do braided trims, you know, when you're making things. Some people like 'em."

Teria observes teasingly, "You're sunburned again - and I didn't even say anything this time."

It only takes that comment to make his cheeks burn brighter. "It's always your fault," he protests. "Somehow."

Teria crosses her arms, lips curving upwards. "My fault? Why is it my fault? It's not my fault you look cute that way!"

There's something about blushing. Once you start, it just seems to get worse and worse. And that's what's happening to Rulyn. "But you pointed it out," he mumbles.

Teria nods unrepentedly. "Mmm-hmm. I probably will again, too."

Rulyn puts his hands on his cheeks, his fingers cool against the burning skin. "If you do it too much, I might stop blushing," he ponders.

Teria smiles cheerfully, "I'll be careful to ration out the comments that make you blush then."

Rulyn looks at you, from behind fading pink cheeks and a covering of fingers. "If I admitted I like it when you do that," he says, "Would that mean your job was complete and you'd have to move on to making some one else blush? You being a professional blush-collector, and all."

Teria begins to laugh, rocking back on the cot a bit. "Would't it be ironic if you Impressed a blue? No, I'm afraid you're stuck with me - I've lost track of the number of times I made T'jas blush!"

Rulyn smiles now. "Maybe that's what I'll do. Impress blue." Then, "Just how do you make T'jas blush? He doesn't even like women at all, does he?"

Teria shakes her head. "Not at all, but - I don't know. I just do. It's too easy, even."

Rulyn suggests, "What if YOU impressed blue?"

Teria blinks. "Then I'd have to try to make myself blush..." Inevitably, she actually does, as her mind starts going through the possible things that could turn her red.

Rulyn watches, appreciatively, and pleased. "See? That's quite nice, too," he says.

Teria ducks her head, mutters, "That was unfair! I never blush!"

Rulyn laughs, now, an appreciative, joyous laugh. "That was entirely fair," he says.

Teria leans in to kiss you on the cheek. "Well - wait for the payback them!" She grisn and rises. "Okay, my stomach is telling me something. Are you hungry?"

Rulyn flushes again, this time pleased, not flustered. He laughs, "Of course I'm hungry. You go ahead, and I'll catch up."

Teria laughs and heads out of the room, whistling.

Teria wends her way out to the Inner Caverns.