Candidate Barracks
Carved from a natural bubble in the volcanic stone, this cavern has room enough to hold around two dozen occupants in comfort. Set into one of the long walls is a natural hearth area, not as large as some but more then enough to warm the cavern. Before it lays an old, well-worn rug that's colors have faded over turns of being un cared for. Mismatched chairs, an old couch, and a few randomly placed floor pillows finish up the sitting type area where candidates can relax after a long day of chores.
Along the walls are stationed sets of cots and clothes presses with curtains dividing them for privacy, each made up to the standards of the Weyrwoman. The left hand row of cots is made up with coverlets of brown and trimmed in black for male candidates, while the right hand row is made up with a lighter brown coverlet that's trimmed in white for the female candidates.
Above, the soft white light from electric lamps cast down during waking hours, while basket of emergency glows are stored in corners around the cavern for use during power outages.
Regardless of what +weather might say, it is early morning. Early morning enough that the candidates are still waking up and begining to do the morning stumble of get dressed, make cot, and clean up area before being assigned their chores for the morning. Hazelon, with his bunk as far away from the doorway as possible, had finished said cleaning and dressing well before many of the other candidates had. Now he sits on the edge of that bunk quietly sharpening his knife.
Ravyal may not have slept..overly well during the night. What with crazy adventures in finding /bodies/ in the forest, the former weaver might possibly had a few new things on his mind. Unwanted, bloody things. For now, he groggily sits on his cot. He moved a bit before, when he woke from his latest bout of sleep, but now he seems to have gotten stuck in a half-asleep state, not wanting to do much of anything. Still, there's a slight tilt of his head in Hazelon's direction, looking at him while he sharpens that knife. Or maybe he's just staring at the knife.
Hazelon didn't lose a single ounce of sleep over the found dead body. Perhaps he's a bit too young to be so jaded, but it is what it is. The scrap of stone against knife would rouse others to wakefulness if his bunk was not closer. Up he brings the knife, running a thumb carefully along the edge. It must not meet his standards for sharpness, because he continues to sharpen. Is someone looking at him? His gaze flicks up once to rest on the weaver, then down again.
Ravyal might be sleepy, but he's certainly attentive to the scrape of stone against the knife. Hazelon looking at him, however, causes a rather abrupt shift in his gaze. /Away./ At…his rather boring sheets. So wrinkled. Once he determines it safe again, he glances back up, then finally gets to his feet. He shuffles down along the cots to take himself a seat on the one /next/ to Hazelon, leaning slightly toward the other candidate to peek at him. "Have you had to use that? On people, I mean."
Hazelon's gaze stays on that knife in his hands now, as he catagorizes Ravyal's gaze as harmless. The shuffle of feet towards him is ignored till he settles so close by. Then he'll look up, the stone pausing in it's steady scrap across metal. Dark eyes betray nothing of his feelings as the teen asks his question. Silence stretches before Hazelon finally replies. "Aye."
Ravyal tilts his head. There's almost a studying quality to his gaze as he watches Hazelon…and even listens to his answer. At least he doesn't go rolling off the other side of the cot to get away from him. That's something, right? "Oh. Okay, then." The candidate gives a small nod for that confirmation, and sits back, hands coming up to rub at tired eyes.
Hazelon wouldn't have even been suprised if the teen was to run. It wouldn't be the first time, though being a candidate has stiffled many of the rumors. "You ain't never seen a dead body before." It's a statement of fact, not really a question. "You don't ever forget."
What a wonderful snippet of conversation to come in to. Amethyst overhears Hazelon, and frowns across the cots at him as she sits on her own to continue towelling down her short hair. "Really, Hazelon. It's bad enough we saw it, but do we have to keep talking about it?" She's clearly just come from the baths, as she stows her personal bathing kit beneath her cot. Did anyone notice that she didn't sleep much last night?
Ravyal is certainly quiet about it, simply fidgeting to himself while Hazelon talks about the corpse. He nods though, despite it not being really a /question/ to if he'd seen a body before. "Y..yeah. I don't think I will. That was just…" The teen might look a little green even at the memory, but he jerks his head up at hearing Amethyst. He peeks toward the woman, offering a faint smile, but he shakes his head just a little in response. "I..I asked him…"
Silence meets Amethyst's rebuke. Dark eyes rise to simply look at her as the stone scrapes against the edge of his knife. If either of them are paying attention, they might note it is the one he kept from the guard from the night before. His lips part once, almost like he might speak, but then close again when Ravyal speaks. Nope. Nothing to add.
"Then you're just as bad, Rav." Amethyst raises her brows at the Weaver, then tuts and shakes her head. "It wasn't that scary. It's only… natural. To die." And be frozen stiff in some hidden little cave to be discovered by accident. "We shouldn't think about it, anyway. It's probably not good for us."
"Natural? There was blood everywhere." Sounds pretty unnatural to him! Ravyal shakes his head a bit, although he does close his mouth again at the reprimand, squirming in his seat. There's a quick glance at Hazelon then, before the boy gets up again. At least he's still not /fleeing/. Even if he is walking over to the small hearth. "Does…does anyone want some klah?" Because obviously…some is kept there. For tired, sleepy candidates.
"It's for him to be decidin' what be scarin' him." Hazelon finally speaks, though not to answer Ravyal's question about a drink. He isn't tired, having slept just normally. The knife is raised up to be tested again, and this time the edge seems to meet his satisfaction, as he flips the blade over to start on the other.
Amethyst folds her towel, then drapes it over the edge of her cot. "Well, no, the way she died wasn't all that natural, no, but… being dead is?" She frowns, not quite sure where she's going with that. "Of course it is," she replies to Hazelon, nodding, "but it's also for me to decide when I should give my opinion. And, Rav? I could murder - I mean, I would love a mug of klah, please. Two spoons of sweetner. Thanks."
Oh yes, there is a slow, wide-eyed /stare/ given to Amethyst for that slip. Really? Gawk. It's a moment or two before Ravyal moves again, shaking his head. But at least he gets the klah without any problems. Sweetner? Check. The boy does try out a smile though, shoulders lifting when he comes over with the mugs, and hands Amethyst's hers. "I don't really feel like it's much for me to /decide/ what's scary.." If he could choose, he wouldn't be afraid of anything!
"Dead is dead." Whatever wisdom Hazelon means to imply by those words is left unexplained. His eyes lift to watch the younger teen walk away and then come back. "No. Not scary. But what you be afraid of. Things what can be hurtin' or killin' you should be feared. And rightly so."
Amethyst takes the mug from Ravyal with a grin and a wink, curling both hands around it and resting it in her lap as she allows it to cool a little. "Do you think you even can choose what you think is scary? Or do you think it's maybe programmed into you, like what they do with things in the Computer Craft?" She cocks her head as she listens to Hazelon, lips pursed into a thoughtful pout. "Hrm. See, I'm not sure I agree there, Haze. I work with tools that can hurt me, but they don't scare me. I wasn't scared of the body - startled to find it, yes, but scared? No. It wasn't going to hurt me. Or do you mean we should be scared of things like wild felines?"
Hey, that body could hurt people. /Zombies./ Ravyal takes his own mug back to sit down with it on the boys' side of the room, settling cross-legged on a cot. Not his own? He doesn't seem to mind! Nobody /else/ seems to be using it. "I've just never..seen one..before." One that met a somewhat violent, painful, /frozen/ end! The teenager sighs just a little though, sipping from his mug for a bit of comfort. His fingers curl around it, holding on while watching the other two candidates. "..Who /isn't/ scared of wild felines?"
"I'm sayin' it's people what ought to be feared, not dead and whatnot what'll come by accident." Hazelon seems to have used up his words for the morning though, because he falls silent. Eyes are cast downwards onto his knife as every ounce of his attention applies itself there. Scrape. Scrape. Scrape…
Listening as she blows gently on the surface of her klah, Amethyst looks from one boy to the other. "That makes sense, Hazelon. People are far worse than… not-living people." She takes a hesitant sip, knowing it's going to be too hot before she even tries - and yet she still ends up pulling a face when her lips get burnt. "There has to be someone not scared of them, Rav? Look at the hunters who go after them. They can't be scared, or they wouldn't do it. Right?"
Ravyal sniffs softly. "I think it's healthy to be scared of something that could kill you.." He peeks over the rim of his mug at that, watching Amethyst curiously. "Doesn't mean they don't still do it.." Still, he does take a quick glance over at the knife-sharpening Hazelon, chewing on his lower lip for a moment. "There's plenty of people like that in the world, I guess. That…that would hurt you." Or worse. He sighs a little bit though, and relaxes somewhat with the help of the warm klah going into his belly. "I'm in the infirmary today…it smells funny in there."
"Fear be somethin' what can be controled if needed." Hazelon says this quietly, almost as if to himself rather then to those around him. "You be chooin' if it be holdin you back." The knife edge is tested again and seems to finally meet with his demands of sharpness. Standing Hazelon moves to the small tunk at the edge of the cot and pulls out a rag to begin cleaning the blade. Ravyal's attempt to change the conversation goes unremakred upon, though he says nothing else on the subject of fear.
"Fear is… also natural?" Amethyst's running out of things to say on the subject. "This is an awfully morbid way to start the morning, boys. You know what? I say we ought to talk about something… brighter. Nicer. Like… not the infirmary, since if you're there I'm there too, Rav, but… how about the eggs? That's positive, isn't it? Have you see them?"
An awkward topic, to be sure. Given Ravyal's own timid nature. But the teen seems somewhat relieved to have it change, even if his own attempt doesn't work so well. There's a small nod given, finally moving that mug away from his mouth to rest in his lap while he talks. "I watched them being laid.. It was really..something." There's a small smile however for it, despite how uncertain he might sound about the whole process of /laying/ them. "They were really pretty though."
Perhaps this is why Hazelon stays away from groups so much. His skills at 'small talk' rank about as low as it is possible to get. Amethyst's question is met with a nod. Yes. Seen them. Has no comment. Invisible flecks of dust are rubbed away from the blade as all of his attention is turned there. Soon enough it would be time to be going about those chores.
Finally, Amethyst's klah is at a sippable temperature, and she enjoys a good mouthful of the stuff while Ravyal speaks. "Really? Did you see it? I stopped by after, had a chat with the Weyrwoman. Was it more interesting than watching a firelizard lay eggs? I admit I watched my brother's gold do it once, and it was fascinating for the first two, then… well, it's just the same thing on repeat really, isn't it?" She shrugs her shoulders gently. "They're quite pretty though, I agree. What do you think, Hazelon?"
Ravyal looks a little sheepish at that, shrugging. "Kind of..I suppose. I mean..yeah, it's a bunch of laying and hole digging.." Just on a larger scale! There's a slow smile that comes across the former weaver's expression though, shoulders lifting. "I enjoyed seeing the different ways they looked though..they're really different.." When Amethyst starts asking questions though of the knife-sharpening candidate, he tilts his head, peering in that direction curiously.
Hazelon allows the question to hang a bit, before finally shrugging. "Aye, pretty. Bright. Didn't realize they was suppose to be so many colors. Ain't sure if it be natural." Way to bring down the conversation Haze, and he shrugs again. "Nine of 'em." It's a belated comment, but there.
"Nine, yes. Did you find them bright? I thought they were quite… pleasing. I think I said 'aesthetic', when I was in the galleries." Amethyst shrugs one shoulder gently, sipping on her klah again. "I've been sketching a piece inspired by them, actually. And, that reminds me… I did say to the Weyrwoman that I'd go back to her. I wonder if I've got time now, before chores…"
"Some were bright.." Ravyal shakes his head a little, but empties out his mug with a sigh. And when there's mention of needing to get going? The candidate gives a soft groan and gets up to hurry with making his cot..finally. "I'm going to get something to eat in the caverns before I need to go.."
Hazelon rises without speaking. Back to that small trunk of his he moves, leaving his already made bed behind. The knife, once wrapped in the cloth he had used to clean it, is placed within the trunk. IT closes with a satisfying thunk. "Be seein' you." It's more of a goodbye then most people get, before the quiet teen is pointing his feet to out and the responsibilities of the day.
"See you in the infirmary, Ravyal," Amethyst calls to the ex-Weaver, before she, too, stands up, and raises her mug as a farewell to Hazelon. "Later, Haze. Don't work too hard today." She winks at him as he passes, and she's not far behind, leaving once she's finished her klah.