Restless Thoughts (open)

[freya]

Trelia was in the candidate barracks as she just stood there in a white night gown looking at her bed and couldn't believe that she would spend another night here. She had yet to impress and would have to endure standing for another clutch of eggs. Her hands we're nervously moving through her hair as she thought that a change was needed. It seemed her life was at a stand still and nothing had changed since she'd come to the weyr a couple of turns ago. Her hand went to her hair and then she decided that a haircut would suffice. In a moment of stupidity or maybe it was just more of a self dare she took a pair of scissors out of her trunk then cut her hair. She ran her hands through her hair as she felt through it and realized that it now fell just above her shoulders instead of all the way down her back.

The result was something that she could live with and she pulled her hair back in a band. She bypassed her sleep mates as they went on dreaming and then made her way to the joint common room. Trelia hoped that no one was up as she wanted some time to herself and time to think. When she noticed a chair then sat down as she watched the fire burning and was thankful for it. Her only thoughts is what would she do if the day came that she aged out without impressing. The day was many turns off as she could stand till twenty two however would she really want to wait that long. Her only choice was the answer of yes as there was nothing that she wanted more then to impress. A glance over at the fire she was lost in her thoughts and just continued to stare.

A chill seemed to go up her body as she realized that somebody was watching and turned to see no one. She was just restless as she continued to stare at the flames and then grabbed a nearby blanket. Trelia pulled the blanket around her as she used a nearby chair to put her feet up on. In that moment she was comfortable only then did she start to fall asleep as her eyes started to drift off. It started slow at first then a fluttering and soon her eyes we're shut.

[SnickersPods]

Briac left the shadows concealing the corridor that lead to the boys dorms. Assured that she slept by the slow even breaths he could barely hear. For one so massively bulky, though admittedly short, at times he could move stealthily. He did so now, picking his way carefully to the chair he had abandoned upon hearing her approach. Silently he picked up his notebook, the one he had forgotten in his haste. On reflection, he knew the reaction had been childish, running from a mere slip of a girl. He'd almost been back to his cold pile of firs before he'd noticed the missing notebook, crude graphite pencil and all. He'd cursed, under his breath, to avoid waking the other boys in the lodgings. It had taken him several seven days to scrounge the marks to purchase the illusive writing tool, the last thing he still had from his dunk overboard. Briac had been relieved to find that, once it had dried out, it was still more than usable. The notebook had been easier to procure, once he'd started making his glassware people had been more than willing to trade a good quality jug for a measly notebook. It was still a wonder to Briac, to see them so overjoyed when he'd built a rudimentary kiln and managed to cobble together some pots with it that wouldn't crack in the fire and could boil all night long if the coals were banked correctly. As any half-decent smith he had a working knowledge of the craft, but had chosen the glass field due to his talent with the blowpipe. Still, it came in handy there too, repairing broken and essential tools for his generous hosts.

Briac shook his head as he realised he'd been standing with his notebook in his hands staring at the fire. He saw something, just for a moment, that suddenly had his mind purring like a honed weapon. He took one broad step and knelt down by the fire, hulking silhouette blocking off the light and the heat as he flipped open his notebook and feverishly started to draw. Under his pencil tip a picture formed, a graceful curving shape reaching upwards, with two great flaming wings flaring on either side, in the middle a complex swirl formed pulling the eye first along one curve and then redirecting it along another.

He jerked as he heard a sound behind him, his rational mind coming back to him as the picture in his mind faded back into obscurity. Hunching his shoulders Briac peered surreptitiously around him, brow drawn down into an expression designed to discourage the would-be ambush. When nothing jumped out at him, and the girl appeared to continue to slumber on half obscured in the shadows, his expression relaxed and his rare smile pulled coyly at one corner of his mouth, laughing at his own foolishness.

Now that he was looking at her Briac noticed that the ends of her hair seemed raw somehow, and he quickly concluded that someone had very recently hacked at it with some kind of cutting tool. It didn't look bad, not by any stretch, but he had a bizarre tendency of noticing these things. He wondered why for a brief interval; it wasn't short enough to be lice, not neat enough to be style, not ragged enough to be an accident or necessity. In any case, he didn't recognise her, though bearing in mind his lack of social inclination that wasn't surprising in the least. He frowned, though admittedly his eyebrows had very little work to do, considering how anti-social he was. He entertained the notion briefly of trying to go amongst his fellow candidates and perhaps make, dare he think it, friends. Immediately his pride roared to life, laying down all the reasons this was a bad idea. Humiliation was arguably the biggest issue on the table; Briac could not stomach the concept of putting himself out there, risking ridicule. He also knew exactly where that would get him; into trouble. His first reaction to almost any situation was defensive, which for Briac translated directly to his fists on offence.

Tired of the familiar internal debate Briac straightened to his full height, woefully not much, and turned away from the fire and the sleeping occupant. His eyes flickered to her for an instant, detecting movement, though after a moment he dismissed it and moved to walk back towards the corridor that lead to the boys section. He got about halfway there before he kicked something, a footstool, loudly. It clattered over as Briac snarled, mostly in annoyance rather than any pain, the staccato of the wood loud against the stone flooring. He was tempted to kick it, and nearly did, but froze as a noise came from behind him.

[freya]

Trelia had been fading off to sleep when she heard a noise and jumped up startled to see a young man. She couldn't make out much due to the lack of light that was entering the room and said, "You scared me,". The young woman had held a hand up to catch her breath and then remembering her manners said, "I'm Trelia,". Her eyes tried to recall where she might know the young man from and couldn't think of where she'd meet him before. He must be one of the new candidates thought Trelia with a smile. She remembered her own joy at being picked as a candidate and hoped with all her heart that she impressed this time.

When she had walked up closer to him the appearance become more vivid. He had to be around her age as there we're very few younger candidates except for thew new weyrbrates. It still hurt that the weyrbrates had impressed before her and she wondered if their blood had something to do with it. The connection that they seemed to have with dragons might be stronger then someone who was non-weyrbred. If she recalled right most of the weyrbrates we're the children of dragonriders and had grown up with them their all lives. "What is your name," asked Trelia as she looked at him for another moment then there was dead silence?

His eyebrows we're thick and seemed to give away his emotions easily. Trelia noticed that they we're almost equal in height and that was odd for the young girl. She was used to men being taller then her and played it off with a smile. "I thought that no one else was up," said Trelia as she'd thought that everyone else was sleeping. Her ramblings at night usually we're this late and most of the time she was able to sleep without problems. It was her thoughts that made her stay up as doubts of never impressing seemed to plague her. A thought ran across her head as she looked him over no doubt he'd impress as boys seemed to impress a lot easier then girls. The dragons almost sensed that boys would make better riders then girls and waited for the man to speak.

[SnickersPods]

Briac's shoulders sagged as he heard her speak from behind him, resigning himself to his blunder. He turned slowly, catching her quick assessment and knowing she did not recognise him either. Shrugging in a ripple of movement Briac said gruffly, "S' accident." He ran his free hand through his dark hair as she approached, notebook and pencil still clasped tightly in the other. With her back to the fire, her features appeared more obscured than ever and Briac was unable to read her expression, a situation that made his discomfort just a little more acute.

Her approached heralded closer inspection of his appearance, and Briac bared it silently, his dark gaze riveted to her shadowy silhouette. Of what little time Briac had spent within the Weyr walls he had come to identify a certain barring amongst the dragonfolk, one that this one lacked. He wondered if she was from amongst the cotholds beholden to Refuge and Haven or maybe even further and from the Northern Continent. His thoughts rolled to a halt as Trelia asked for his name, staring at her for a moment as he silently debated if he wanted to give her even that much. Mentally he shook his head and shouted that insecure part of his brain into a corner long enough to grumble into the dark room, "Briac."

She seemed to want to start a conversation and Briac, after some debate, concluded that if he was to stay here for the near future he had better start somewhere. "I find it hard to sleep in this place, I've not been here long and the difference keeps me up long hours." His longest sentence yet it petered out almost as if his own voice was surprised to hear so much. She was easily his heat and Briac was relieved that at least he did not have to look up to look her in the face, something he had found he had to do for many of the people he'd met. Tallness seemed to be a genetic trait passed through dragonmen of all creeds, one of the reasons Briac secretly thought that Northerners were allowed to stand; too much of the same blood was never a good thing. She seemed to be waiting for something more, though Briac would be cracked to know what. After some thought he hazarded an attempt, his eyebrows drawn down in preparation for the inevitable bad reaction most had to him. "Why do you stay up so late? Does your hair have something to do with it?" His large hand gestured at the blunt ends of her brunette hair, the question apparent in his gaze despite the heavy line of his brow.

[freya]

Trelia listened to him for a moment as he spoke then was taken back with his question. "My hair," asked Trelia as she looked at him and was just surprised that a guy would even notice a thing? She'd never had a guy pay any attention to her hair before and then sighed. "Well, I couldn't sleep and wanted a change," said Trelia as she thought about how nocturnal her activities had become. In her old life back at the cot hold she'd be asleep at this hour because of getting up early to take care of the farm. Her eyes lingered for a moment then she said, "I've had the worst time sleeping lately and it seems that I'm not the only one," said Trelia as she sighed for a moment. It seemed that they we're the only two awake and that meant that the others weren't worried.

She wished that she held that same confidence and had at one time. When she'd first arrived at the weyr and had been more then honored to be given such a opportunity. The whole situation changed as each disappointment kept coming and caused her to doubt herself. "Where are you from," asked Trelia as she looked at him and waited for a answer? It was the long hours comment that had gotten her attention and had to admit that most likely meant Northerner. The time difference would only be the with those from up North because most of the candidates we're from the South. She didn't have anything against the Northerners and many of them we're very nice.

The one thing that they we're was competition for the eggs and yet this was a guy. He would not be standing for the golden egg and that at least gave her some relief. Trelia knew that this might be the last golden queen to be born for awhile because it happened very rarely. The weyr seemed almost full with the queens and hoped this was her turn. She hadn't voiced her concerns to many people because they usually just laughed at her. In her own home they laughed at her riding any dragon and a waste because there was marriage to pursue.

[SnickersPods]

"Well, I couldn't sleep and wanted a change," said Trelia as she thought about how nocturnal her activities had become.

Briac wondered for a moment how insomnia and hair correlated, but with a mental shrug, he focused again on Trelia. Briac heard her sigh, just barely, and quirked one thick eyebrow. She seemed a bit morose tonight, though Briac had very little to base that on, something about her seemed depressed.

"I've had the worst time sleeping lately and it seems that I'm not the only one,"

Briac shook his head in the negative, commenting before he realised he'd meant to, "I sleep like between, it's the getting to sleep part that causes the issues." There was silence for a moment, broken only by the crack of a log splitting in the fire. Her question, when it came, wasn't entirely unexpected. The problem was deciding exactly what to tell her. His eyes unabashedly studied her as he chose his words, weighing the consequences of what he would give her now. "I'm Northern born and Glass-Smith trained, but I've lived and worked in the South for more than a year before I was found on Search." That seemed safe enough, Briac thought. She'd probably guessed the Northerner part, despite his increasing tan there was still something unassailably Northern about him.

Briac shifted his weight, fighting the urge to fidget in the stretching silence. He scrolled through suitably polite topics in his head to break the awkward standoff, crossing off things like weather, health, career choices and pets as obvious and rather mundane. Thinking of something suitable amongst his sleep deprived thoughts Briac sought to boost the conversation, "Do you stand for the Gold? I've overheard rather alot of speculation about it." Much as he'd tried not to. Honestly, the folk here could spread gossip like the plague, if only because they were rather brazen about advertising it.

[[OOC:Sorry about the blah post, I'm gonna blame it on the fact that it's midnight and I'm a little fuzzy.]]

[SnickersPods]

Freya the puppeteer as it were of Trelia has left the forum.

I suppose that means this thread is closed.

[HG]

(sorry!)