Tilarekna - Monday, December 04, 2000, 3:03 PM ---------------------------------------------- _--^^^#####// \\#####^^^--_ _-^##########// ( ) \\##########^-_ -############// |\^^/| \\############- _/############// (>::<) \\############\_ /#############(( \\// ))#############\ -###############\\ (oo) //###############- -#################\\ / \ //#################- -###################\\/ \//###################- _#/|##########/\######( /\ )######/\##########|\#_ |/ |#/\#/\#/\/ \#/\##\ | | /##/\#/ \/\#/\#/\#| \| ' |/ V V ' V \#\| | | |/#/ V ' V V \| ' ' ' ' ' / | | | | \ ' ' ' ' ## ## ######### ( | | | | ) __________________________ ## ## ## __\ | | | | /__ | A Pern Themed Moo, based | ###### ## (vvv(VVV)(VVV)vvv) | on 'Dragonriders of Pern'| ## ## ## art by | books, by Anne McCaffrey | ## ## arpers ## ale John Moser ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The "Dragonriders of Pern" (tm) books are copyright 1967 by Anne McCaffrey. You are playing this game by the kind permission of Anne McCaffrey and her agent, Virginia Kidd. Type: connect to login to an existing character connect guest to login as a guest character @who to see who's online @quit to logoff *** Connected *** Candidate Barracks Serviceable, this low-ceiling'd room runs right and left from the heavy canvas curtains that function as a door: relatively bare of ornamentation, tidy glows light the few worn tapestries that adorn the walls and depict a variety of dragons in flight or at rest. But it is the cots, lots and lots of cots, that distinguish this room from the others, their blue or black coverlets tucked neatly over relatively fresh rushes. Candidate's haven, this is their escape from the bustling world of chores and Weyr; visitors are welcome if invited. Resting atop the doorframe are Rydia, Leannan, Butterfly, Kya, Rennlet, Dystopia, Simon, Windu, Tirone, Maksim, Kernow, Kyrenna, Kitaro, McCleane, Rei, Aztek, Frist, and Moody. You see Name Board, Oren's Lecherous Lounge of Lu-uvvv., Gideon's rucksack, Lea's Rebelliously Corrupt Corner, Reka's Centermost Purple Cot, Sasha's Cosy Quilted Couch, Ine's Sanctuary of Simplicity, Hy's Homey Cot, Pia's Stylishly Decorated Nook, Pemeron's Cot, Rauve's WarmFuzzy Cot, **Gideon's Welcome Sign (OOC)** (look gws), Sorana's Super-Spiff Silvern Sanctuary, Hiliza's Happy Hammock-Imposter, Siannen's li'l cot, Tatoria's Cot, Moe's Bundle of Blankets, Slippa's Lilac-Blue-Green Psychadelic Cot, and Cloth-covered Basket here. You notice Sorana, Pia, Oren, Gideon, Pemeron, Rauve, Sasha, Mosiah, and Tatoria asleep here. Caylea and Slippa are here. Obvious exits: Caverns Tilarekna sighs softly as she straightens, the white lump of fabric on her lap still peered at but not as closely. Ick. Candidate Robes. Gotta hate 'em. Bright bright searing white.. which already has a hint of grubby grey to it in places. Plain white thread is removed from the small sac on the cot, and Reka concentrates fully on getting the thread through the eye of the needle, thumb partially protruding from her mouth to one side as she concentrates.. Having just entered the barracks, and seeming fairly refreshed, Caylea strides drag-feetedly over to her little darkened corner and plunks down on her shadowed cot. Yawning mildly, she reaches up hands to gently begins to massage her head again, which is covered by a large blackish towel. Obviously, from her redish general appearance, she's just come from the steaming baths. She glances across the vaste caverns towards Tilar and smiles slightly. "Working on your robes?" And that would be Super Intelligent Question number One. Tilarekna blinks once, and tongue retreats in to her mouth once more as the thread missses the eye. Drat! Looking up with a vaguely annoyed expression on her face, Reka peers into the shadowy rows to find her friend. "Yeah.. I had it nearly done, and then I put it to one side.. Big mistake. It appears m'lizards have been using it as bedding, and now I have to repair it and such.." Making a face, the girl looks back down at her work. It doesn't look THAT bad... just.. dusty. Caylea nods as she watches the other's movements. "Yeah..I'd better work on mine as well. It's going to take me /forever/ to finish with my hand messed up." Sigh. Instead of standing up, she simply shifts over to the side of the bed and reaches down, searching under the cot for her work basket. Finally, item is found and hefted onto the cot. As she begins to pull out the yards of unstained cloth, the healer glances back towards Tilar. "So..think it'll be soon?" Tilarekna blinks and instantly pays scant attention to her robe, eyes finding Caylea. "Your hand? What happened?" concern is evident, although she makes no effort to move from her bed - that would result in fabric, needles, scissors and thread all over the floor. Can't have that.. "Soon? Well.. I hope so. I'm not sure 'Reaches can cope with having so many of us.." Or is that she can't cope with being in Reaches? Meh, whatevah. "But it'll be soon, I'm sure." Caylea shrugs her shoulders as she finally unfolds the fabric, then digs back in the basket for the other 'tools of the trade'. "Um.. Sewing accident." Yep: The bone-needle, a fairly thick instrument, had been stabbed into her palm. Just an accident. She lifts her hand to show the white, soft-caste wrapped firmly around it. Poor hand: It had been stuck somewhere where it never should have been, bitten by Rupa's tunnelsnake (and possibly a few more), and now stabbed through with a needle. Luckily all the -other- evidences of something 'amiss' had already healed. Scratches and bruises repair faster then puncture wounds. "Cope with us? Well, I can honestly say that those sands are now hot enough to please even /me/. I sweat just fluffing cushions in the galleries." Tilarekna winces in sympathy. "How on Pern did you manage that?" Good question, neh? "I know you've said you're not the great at sewing, but that's a tad clumsy," For give her, she's a tad brain-addled this morning. A perk of concentrating COMPLETELY on a bright robe... Kinda. "Heh, I'm sure. But somehow I think only the dragons are going to know when the eggs are going to start cracking. And that'll not be for at least another sevenday or so.. Probably more." Not too concerned really.. Well, kinda. Picking up the needle again, she hrmms. Caylea sighs in mild exasperation as she tries to thread the needle. Think it's bad doing it with two good hands, try trying to divebomb the head with one! "Oh, I'm not really /that/ bad with sewing. Just cloth is a bit different then flesh." Towards her other remark, she flushes slightly. "Oh, it just..slipped." Well, that much was true. "Good..there's still time to debate about turning back and returning to Ista." She mutters mostly to herself. Almost casually she mumbles. "Today's my turnday an' here I am, trying not to stick myself again with a sewing needle. Fun fun." Tilarekna somehow manages to thread the needle with the horribly transparent whitey thread, before her head snaps up and hands pull it out again. D'oh. "It's yer what?" she echoes, amber eyes widening, before she mock-scowls at Cay. "I thought you were my friend! You're supposed to tell me before hand that yer turnday is coming!" Sighing she dumps her lapful of cloth and material on her cot and weaves her way over to Cay's. Stopping before her friend, she grins. "You ARE the limit, aren't you? Give me that, I'll help you with it.." She's not to modest to let others give her a hand in her work. This project was nearly impossible with one good hand. Lifting the needle and thread to Tilar, she gives a shrug of her shoulder. "Would it have mattered?" Turndays weren't exactly celebrated. At least, not Caylea's. She smiles transparently. "Nineteen turns. I'm getting /old/." Tilarekna wrinkles her nose as she sits herself down beside Caylea, amused. "19 is not old, silly. Now, when you're 21 turns of age, THEN you're old. You've a few years left, methinks.." Eyeing the fabric as she unfolds it, she tilts her head slightly at Cay. "How much of this have you done, by the way?" Good question, no? Rolling her eyes, Cay comments cooly. "Oh, Goody. I have two whole years to be young. Joy." Yep! Canes and all, folks. Images of running crookedly around the tunnels, bapping snakes on the head with a wicker cane pop in the healer's mind, and she shivers almost noticibly. She watches as Tilar fiddles with the cloth before reaching out and unfolding it completely. Basically, nothing's done except the very ends of it, which tie the two cloth ends together enough to actually hold them together. "Not much.." She finishes. Tilarekna blinks and eyes the top of the not-clothing. "Cay, I can not let you wear this on the sands." Does the girl want to completely embarrass herself? Well, being Cay, it probably wouldn't bother her. Elbowing the healerite in amusement at the sarcasm, before she nods to Bay, who glides back to her cot and returns with her scissors. "Well, since your hand's incapable of letting you do this well, I guess I'll just have to do it for you." Le sigh. What a shame. "Think of it as a turn day gift," she winks, before she proceeds to snip away the thread at the ends. Pursed lips stare at the cloth and she gives a little shrug of her shoulders, folding her hands on her lap and pulling her legs up onto the cot, crossing-style. After everything she'd been through already in her life, a little hatching mishap wasn't enough to truely bother her. It'd probably make her a bit cross until she was sent on her way home back to Ista, but other then that, she'd get over it. She always did. As towards the mention of Tilar actually doing her robe for her, Cay flushes lightly. "Is that allowed? Really..you don't have to.." Again, she wouldn't mind someone else doing her work, but actually doing it willingly? Then she blinks in surprise. "Huh?" Something Tilar had said earlier suddenly strikes the proper cord: Call it belayed reaction. "But I'm not your.." She stops for a moment, crimson melting down the sides of her cheeks and pulling in her jaw, which hangs there uselessly. Tilarekna tsks, eyes on the fabric, so the sight of Cay turning scarlet is one it appears she's going to miss. "Yeah, it's allowed. Heck, I lent my old robe to a previous candidate, since I'd out grown it. Besides, I don't mind doing it. It won't be super fancy, but at least you won't end up bare bottomed in the breeze." Oblivious to Cay's impression of a landed fish, she proceeds to thread a needle with far better accuracy in the dark than she did in the light by her cot, before pushing it through the fabric and sewing the pieces neatly together. "At least I know it'll have been cut correctly and ready for you to put togeth-- Beg yer pardon?" Her mind, having been on one track, finally relays Cay's surprised words from her ears. "Of course you are! Don't be daft, Cay." Perhaps that bone needle was made by a packtail. She /must/ have been infected for all that oggle-drooling she's doing as she stares at Tilar. Finally however, the initial disbelief wears off, and yet Caylea says nothing. Wait: She couldn't have a friend. It was strickly specified in the rule book of life that this healer would remain a loner her entire life. She could have 'associates', but not real friends. Friendships intelled things unknown to Caylea, and she simply wasn't ready..prepared, to be anyone's 'friend'. As casual a word as it might seem to others, it deeply unsettles Cay. "Oh. That's nice." She says dull-tonedly before her legs uncross and swing off the bed. Brushing the towel off her head, flaming red fluff peaks and she starts for the door. Caylea slips back out to the caverns. Tilarekna blinks, and stares after the departing healer, nonplussed and unsure as to what, exactly, is going on here. Was it something she said? Perhaps. "Cay?" she calls after the healer, before shrugging, folding her legs beneath her on Caylea's cot and proceeding to do some mending and repairing. This gown may take a while.. And she's time to spare till the healerite returns. =~=~=~=~=~=~=~ End Log ~=~=~=~=~=~=~=