'The World of Pern(tm)' and 'The Dragonriders of Pern(r)' are copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) l967, 2000. This is a recorded online session, by permission of the author but generated on PernWorld MUSH for the benefit of people unable to attend.

Fort Weyr - 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.

Scene already in progress – if you have poses prior to this, please add them here.

It's just before curfew, Queska and her little followers have come back to the barracks being all snooty and giggling amongst themselves, kind of suspicious. There is one excursion still out in Western, but they have been recalled in, if they weren't already heading back. Then the dragons went nutters outside, all roaring and bellowing and a few straggler Candidates came rushing in, Jamen included but he was trying to hide his fear/crying and he's trying to hide but people thought he was going for his robe. Queska of course rounded on him to tease.

Hotaru grins a bit at Abigail, as the former guard basically tells Queska and her little group to shut up. Hotaru was a bit more patient, though even she had her limits. Eventually she'll figure out some way to get them all back. But now isn't the time. Not with all the clamoring going on outside. "I'm not sure what happened. Did you see anything?" She asks poor Jamen, who probably didn't see anything. "Hello, has anyone seen anything?" There's a grunt from Hotaru. "I'm going out to see what's happening." She tells Abigail specifically. Yes, she's in her jammies. No, she doesn't care! Also it might be nearly curfew, and she doesn't care about that either! Out she goes!

Abigail doesn't give Queska another look, as for her 'followers' she gives them all a slight stare down that proves they should all hush. The feeling of chaos outside is enough to send her brown firelizard between while the bronze is clinging to her. With a frown Abbey looks over to Hotaru before hearing Queska. "Leave him alone, no reason to go teasing anyone over anything at the moment." She isn't afraid of Queska, and isn't going to sit back while she goes about teasing the other Candidates while she happens to be around. Zaala is caught sight of and her attention turns to the other girl. "Zaala, did ye see anything going on?" Hearing that Hotaru is going out there she blinks. "Wait, let me go with ye." She didn't think about that much.

Entering the barracks is Edani, just back from one of those recalled groups that were over at Western's Trade Fair. He enters the barracks looking not excited, but confused. He gives the girls over by Queska a short glance as he makes for his cot and unslings his carrysac. There are no AWLMs in here hustling them into robes, so he doesn't even attempt to don his. He flumps onto his cot, kicking off his sandals before falling onto his back. Oh, he's heard Abigail say something about 'going', so he warns, "The racket is worse outside. And they wouldn't tell me anything." 'They' being the riders who dumped them off. "What are you guys on about anyway?" He's out of the loop, for sure!

Considering Zaala doesn't have any firelizards to give her any warning of what's going on and despite the noise outside, she is more so in her own little world, folding neatly her new clothes. Her attention does lift from her own prized possessions towards Abigail however at the ask of what was happening, "Huh?" She's just seemingly coming to terms with the tension in the barracks, at least from one side, her gaze drifting over to Queska, whom she didn't have a problem with, then back to Abigail, "It's dark out there. I saw what you expect to see at night, a whole lot of shadows and noise." She pops down on her cot, eyeing the two girls that are looking to leave, "If something is happening, it's best if you left it to those who hold authority and know what they're doing."

Out might not be so easy and Hotaru may find her way barred by another influx of Candidates rushing in from the last of the excursions hastily recalled back to the Weyr and then the tell-tale glimpse of the black and brown uniforms of the Guards hot on their heels. There's several out there in the hall now, armed and weapons half drawn. Definitely NOT good and poor Hotaru and Abigail as well may be shouted at to get back inside and to stay there. No answers yet! The furor outside seems to have died down even more, though a few calls echo back and forth, the loudest happening from the northernmost part of the bowls. Queska and her followers have made their little circuit, pausing to give the stragglers, Zaala included, a rather incredulous look and then openly scoff. "As /if/ you can be so /calm/," she says in her grating and haughty little way before drifting off and flopping back down on her cot, her followers circling around her as the rest of the Candidates mill about, some going back to sit or stand, anxious and restless.
Then a new sound is coming down the tunnel leading to the barracks, the sound of heavy boots stepping at a very brisk pace. Some might feel the change in atmosphere even before he steps through the entrance and then the Weyrleader is stepping inside. The look on his face is enough for some of the closer Candidates to shrink back. Th'ero's features are set in a look of pure and furious anger, his scowl only making his dark and narrowed eyes all the more fiercer as he pins one Candidate after another with his glare. He's dressed in his riding gear and thankfully not armed save for a dagger at this side and still clipped into it's sheath. He's scary enough without barging in with sword in hand. "All of you, off your cots! Backs against the walls, do not move!" he says in a voice that is strangely level but definitely carrying authority behind it. Now would not be the time to test Th'ero's patience and he's likely to be the last among the "visitors" to the barracks. What's left to guess if he's the worst of them all.

Jamen squeaks in fear when the Weyrleader arrives, the boy scrambling back to press against the wall, lifting his hands to cover his face. As if that'll hide him or make him look inconspicuous. If he can't see them, they can't see him, right? Poor kid.

Kimmila strides in along with Th'ero, the bluerider's casted hand swinging free while her dagger has been switched to her left hip, her left hand resting on it with fingers curled around the hilt. Stepping to once side of the door she stops there, watching Th'ero and then letting her green gaze sweep the Candidates, focusing on them in turn, a frown set onto her lips and none of her usual…well, she's not usually friendly, but right now she looks downright pissed.

On the heels of Edani is Mikal who's evidently gotten back to the Weyr with the same group as him. Recalled back here, the youth from Xanadu's expression is a mixture of concern and curiosity as he neck cranes the whole way into the barracks to see if he can figure out the reason for the recall back to Fort. Once in the barracks he sees the lack of AWLM, and relative calm he follows suit of Edani and moves to dump his bag onto his cot. "Hey Zaala did you see…." whatever else he was going to say is cut off and quickly at that. His motion to plop down onto his cot is stopped suddenly and he spins at the angry bark of the Weyrleader. Boggling a bit he hastily moves to back into the wall, tripping over his feet in hurry and nearly going headfirst into the wall.

Zaala's gaze starts to switch between those who are anxious and those who are restless, toward Queska when she strides by with her snooty attitude, earning a quite obvious eye roll, "There's not -much- I can do about what's happening, if anything is—" and that's approximately when the guards are on the heels of the other candidates being marshalled into the dorms. Pale green eyes seem to snap to, trying to make note of what's going on, simply running her fingers over the stiff spine of the animal-bone comb she bought at Western. Then there's the sound of heavy boots, an angry stride behind the sounds. Oo. Drama. What'd she walk into. Plainly when the Weyrleader bulldozes himself into the barracks and tells them to stand up and put their backs against the wall, she complies and all at once too. The ire of any dragonrider, especially the Weyrleader, was not one she'd like to earn. Her comb is dropped onto her cot, clothes left in a pile, feet shuffling over toward the wall. All she's wearing is shorts and a blouse, so she's not hiding anything! Her eyes flicker to Mikal as he tries to whisper to her, shaking her head in reply, clasping her hands before her, clearly no idea what's going on. But something has!

Hotaru pushes past Edani as he comes in. She's too distracted to even tease him right now. Though she does stop to look at Zaala with a furrowed brow. "Well there's something going on! Why hasn't anyone come to tell us to calm down?" She even shoves her way past the influx of candidates, only to be yelled at and told to go back inside. "Well, this is great." That doesn't stop Hotaru from peeking out the door. She was inside! No one told her she can't look. When Th'ero comes barging in though, he just about bowls Hotaru over. "Eh? W-What?" She does as told, moving just inside the door with her back against the wall.

Abigail doesn't get far, especially with Edani there and she hums faintly. Perhaps it's that 'guard' part of her at the moment that wants to see what might be going on and if she could possible help. "They sort of have a point Hotaru." A slight glance is sent towards Queska once more and she just eyes the girl a moment, and holds back any comment that may want to escape her. "Just ignore her Zaala, it is easier then stooping down to her level." Though her attention is upon the heavy boots which makes her inch backwards a few steps, she didn't get that far from her cot . She blinks seeing Th'ero and then Kimmila and looks utterly confused at the moment. With the Weyrleader looking like that at the moment she isn't about to say another peep. Instead she is back against the wall with the rest of the Candidate's, biting her lip while merely watching. Her bronze firelizard makes a quick retreat to hide under her hair.

Crazed. That is one word to describe the Weyrwoman as she enters in the wake of the other riders. Grey eyes are wide, wild, and utterly frazzled. The woman who, normally, in the face of drama and whatnot tends to be rather composed has, without a doubt, lost it. The cries of angry dragons may have calmed down, but one is still loudly calling throughout the Weyr. Zuvaleyuth is far from calm and the woman reflects the turmoil of her lifemate. Dtirae's grey eyes begin taking in the candidates, searching. Not a word is spoken. Notably, she does not have any of her daggers that are normally not far from the woman's person, but her hand lingers where one would be. Nothing is spoken, she just searches.

Okay see, now guards entering the barracks might not be so unusual, given that Fort Weyr has all but been swarming with them lately. But swords half-drawn, that gets Edani's attention. Half-lidded eyes flare open and his head lifts from his pillow to give the barracks a look 'round, half-expecting to see someone who fits the description of Laris lurking amongst their midst, far-fetched as that might seem. He's not just calm. He's tired and so gives Queska an eyeroll. "If there's something to be freaked out about, I'd be appreciative to be clued in?" But oh, there's the Weyrleader entering - and he's got his Angry Face on. And the Weyrwoman with a Crazy Girl one on. That might do it? Still he's more puzzled than apprehensive, even in the face of those glares, which he meets unwaveringly. What? Then he's moving steadily to do as instructed, turning back to the wall, not questioning save with his eyes, which ask, What in Faranth's name is going on? There he stands, bare heels to wall, toes wriggling. Don't step on them please!

Borodin was staying out of it. The whole mess with Queska, and… well, was is rather an operative word here. With the Weyrwoman's entrance and demand, he backs away slowly up until he thumps against the wall. His eyes are wide, his hands still behind him, tucked in the small of his back as his shoulders shrink down and he leans back. Maybe he can melt through the wall. He steals a glance up at Dtirae, and then his eyes go down to the ground, his hands slinking out and hanging at his sides, reaching back to the stone wall and brushing it nervously.

Zaala nods over to Abigail, eyes fleeting on Queska, wondering what her problem was today. That seems to be moot though once the Weyrleader and Weyrwoman both gain their attentions but their hurried movements into the barracks. She wasn't sure what they're supposed to be afraid of, or in fear of, or nervous over. But -those- looks do earn a curious gaze from the girl, as she too, would like to know what was going on. Their eyes bouncing from one candidate to the next makes her look over the other candidates in the barracks, lifting up on her tippy toes to see if anyone is making any signs of being guilty of some serious crime. She falls back onto her heels, waiting for the axe to fall. Whose head was going to roll, this should be good!

Something must be really wrong if the Weyrwoman is scarier than the Weyrleader. Don't they make a wonderful greeting party? One looking like he's ready to go into a fit of rage and anger, the other half crazed in her fury and completely frazzled. There's no look of approval from Th'ero as the Candidates move hurriedly to his blunt commands, only a sharp look following the last of those getting into position. A sidelong look given to Kimmila and then a low and tensely murmured command to her, probably having the bluerider stay by the door and guard it. No escape now! The Weyrleader then trails after Dtirae, following with stiff and tense steps after her in her wake. But unlike her silence, Th'ero actually talks, though his words are clipped and his anger is clear enough even with his drawling and accented voice, made all the worse by his mood. "Now that I have your attention, I'd like to know which one of you had the gall and /nerve/ to go sneaking onto the Sands. Of all the utter stupid, foolish and /reckless/ things you lot could do as Candidates, which of you thought it'd be a bright idea?" He lectures them, one hand even making a terse gesture in the air, a brief motion to emphasize his words. "Speak up! Now's your chance. We know it was one of you." Not exactly a tactic that will work, but Th'ero at least is giving the guilty party a fair chance. But his gaze begins to drift from face to face. Eenie, meenie, miny, mo?

The young green, Elsie, is perched on the head of Mikal's cot, shivering from worry but she stays where she is at the silent ( and firm) command from Mikal to 'stay!'. He's only given her a bare flicker of attention once he's up against the wall. Nope, his eyes are flickering compulsively between the three very tense riders that have entered the barracks. Even after Th'ero paces further into the room to start the questioning he can't stop looking from one to the other to the other. There's definately a fear of his eyes falling out they've widen so far. All he can manage is a surprise squeak and a shake of his head. The squeak sounds a bit like "Not me!"

Jamen would make a terrible spy. At the Weyrleader's words, the boy simply crumbles, falling to his knees and sobbing. Scared, and tiny, and knowing he messed up BIG TIME, he just falls apart. He doesn't say anything, but his guilt should be pretty obvious, shouldn't it?

Kimmila shifts her stance a bit to block the door, trusting the Guards in the hallway to have her back as she looks around. Jamen's breakdown has her attention, but she only glances at him for a moment before she scans the group, looking for reactions.
Zaala's reaction is abruptly a sigh of relief. Her face has one of those 'that's it' expressions upon it, seemingly not taking it as serious as she ought to be, well, as serious as the Weyrleaders are taking it. Instead now, seemingly content with knowing it wasn't her, her gaze notices Mikal's far too quick 'not me' response and then Jamen's slumping down on the ground to cry over it. Ah-hah. The guilty party reveals himself. Her arms cross as she waits, not going to be the one to confess or deny anything. She'll just let the pieces fall where they may.

Hotaru blinks at Th'ero, as he asks the question. Ah. That must be what's got everyone so upset. The red-head looks around at the rest of her candidates. She doesn't say anything. It could end up being taken as a smart remark in a situation like this. As Jamen sinks down into tears, Hotaru blinks more, and glances over at Abigail. Did she know him? It's hard to tell if his breakdown is an admission of guilt, or if he's just scared and upset at the commotion and weyrleaders angry and yelling. She looks between the weyrleaders and the crumbled boy.

Edani doesn't much seem to care about Queska or what she's been up to. The barracks have their share of girls having some petty spat or other on almost a daily basis. It's not hard to note who the more abrasive personalities are and ignore them. But it's easier for a guy to do than a girl probably. Girls have a way of knowing just how to get under each other's skin. He slides over to make more room for Borodin, biting back the impulse to say something about booze. Now is not the time for humor. Then the Weyrleader is stating the problem and he half-frowns, dark brows crinkling together. Really? All this with armed guards for a sneaky candidate who went out on the sands? Not that it isn't dangerous, but… he's perplexed anew, meeting that gaze with a firm headshake when it rests on him. "Just got back, Sir." Since he's fairly relaxed, his brown firelizard remains curled up on his cot pillow. He does think to ask, since there's been that uproar, "Are the eggs okay?" Then to Mikal, who isn't all that far away, he says lowly, "Breathe."

Abigail shifts slightly as she watches the Weyrwoman make her way into the barracks, something bad must have happened, this is the only thing that could possible explain with how everyone is acting. Finally something is said by the Weyrleader and that was truly the last thing she expected to be brought up. She blinks and lets her pale gaze flick over the other Candidates a few moments, wondering who would do such a thing. Her gaze turns towards Queska and her little 'possy', though Jamen's falling to his knees and sobbing gets her attention over on him and she isn't sure what to think on this. She frowns though wondering what would have caused him to do such a thing. Or perhaps it could be from all the stress at the moment.

Borodin nods to Edani without actually looking at the other Candidate. His eyes have better things to do, and they widen further as Th'ero speaks. What? The sands? His fingers press harder against the stone behind him as his gaze darts away to see if maybe he can see through stone instead of sinking through it. Turns out, he can't do that either, and his attention comes back to Th'ero, Dtirae, Kimmila… ah, and then it goes to Jamen as he starts to sob. Borodin bites his lip, his eyes on the boy, and his fingers against the wall spread and tense.

Silence continues from the Weyrwoman, whether or not she hears speaking is another story. Zuvaleyuth's anger can still be heard and the woman does nothing to calm the angry gold. Her eyes are scanning faces and she makes her way along the barracks, searching each face. If she recognizes them, there's no indication until she reaches Jamen. There's a pause and she looks over the sobbing boy. "Stand up an' lemme see yer face." Dtirae snaps, lips pressing together into a thin line.

Th'ero either cannot or will not answer all the questions directed at him, his focus seemingly drawn away for a moment to focus on Dtirae as the Weyrwoman continues to inspect Candidate after Candidate. His gaze then darts back, lingering too on a few faces, many familiar. Several he discards and they're left in peace. "The eggs are fine," Th'ero replies bluntly to Edani, giving the ex-Beastcrafter a long, pointed look and noting his relaxed state with a heavier scowl. "It's Zuvaleyuth though that is the concern. Any fool knows better than to startle a sleeping, brooding, gold." This is said in a voice loud enough for most of the Candidates to hear, his gaze drifting back to the rest, pinning them all again. Then Jamen is crumbling under the pressure and as the Weyrwoman hones in him, the Weyrleader steps back and waits, features still set in anger. Somehow the poor young Candidate lifts his head up and as tear streaked and red eyed as he is, Dtirae's reaction is enough to seal it.

Th'ero steps in then, taking Jamen firmly by the shoulder. "My office," he tells him, overheard by enough. "Wait there." And then he is being passed on towards Kimmila and then out the door to the care of the Guards. Just like that it's done and the Weyrleader is turning to Dtirae to speak to her, his voice terse and brisk. Regardless of her reaction to him, he's leading her out as well, pausing by the door to give the assembled Candidates one final glance. "Lights out in half. Finish with your tasks but stay to the inner tunnels. You will all have new instructions in the morning." That doesn't sound good. With that, he gestures for Kimmila to follow and then they're gone with no further explanation. The barracks seem to almost sigh with relief, or perhaps several Candidates do in one breadth. Queska though, in her little corner, is smirking in her smug little way. "Suppose he got what he deserved," she says in a sighing way, tone so mocking with it's fake pity.
There's no mistaking Jamen's look of fear as he's escorted out of the barracks, his hiccuping sobs the only noise he's able to make. Kimmila follows, glancing once back over her shoulder with a lingering frown. Considering…and then she's gone as well.
Air is good. Mikal intakes a deep lungfull of the oxygen after Edani's whisper. Deep green eyes dart towards the entrance as the angry sounds of the Queen can still be heard. Not a muscle moves from him as he watches Th'ero leading Jamen out of the barracks. Shakily he moves to sit down on his cot and is simply speechless for a long moment. His attention snaps over to Queska. Strange for him but he scowls her way a bit with narrowed eyes. "I'd bet he wasn't alone doing that." he remarks. He's a bit frazzled over the whole thing, especially with the threat/promise of new instructions in the morning! "And it was so fun over at Western this evening!" one might suspect field trips to be over for now.

Edani seriously seems to think something more foul was done than simply sneaking to caress eggs on the sly. But then his beastcrafting roots take him there. He's unfamiliar with brooding golds, so yeah, he's worried they were actually cracked or something. He's relieved by the answers forth-coming from the Weyrleaders and his stance grows even more relaxed. Most likely because he thinks they will sort though the mess at hand so they can all go to bed. The sobbing boy draws a thoughtful stare, and shortly thereafter he does think to comment, "Uh, it may be possible someone put him up to it." Because, yeah, the tears and immediate capitulation. He for one, is more than happy to comply with getting ready for bed. His body is screaming for sleep and nothing more than sleep. He's been a busy, busy… v'tol today over at Western Weyr's Trade fair… and elsewhere.

Zaala watches with as much sympathy as Queska shows, rolling her eyes though for the dramatics, "At least we know how much they trust us…" she notes with some sarcasm, slumping down on the edge of her cot yet again, "Bringing in guards with half drawn swords? You'd think we were all criminals." She starts to pack up her things that she bought, drawing the clothing over her lap, "Who'd be such an idiot as to go on the sands without permission anyway?" She hrrumphs, "Shardin bonehead." See, Queska is not the only one leaping to conclusions. There's a frown for Mikal's last remarks, "I doubt we'll be allowed anywhere again." Her tone is sharp as she lifts her voice, "I -hope- for everyone else's sake, no one else took such a stupid risk as to touch the eggs uninvited." Hey, at least she has a clean alibi, she was at the trade's fair. As for Edani, she snorts, "If anyone put him up to it, it was still -his- choice to touch the eggs."

Hotaru watches as Jamen is forced out of the barracks and handed over to the guards. From her vantage point, she can see them escort him down the hall. Once the weyrleaders have left, she shuts the door quietly and breathes out a big sigh of relief. At least sort of. Maybe she was holding her breath and didn't realize it. At Queska's commentary she's given a pointed look, but again Hotaru holds her tongue. Instead she sighs a bit on the trudge back to her cot. "New instructions… great." The red-head flops onto her cot with a yawn. "No one said he touched any of the eggs. Though he's lucky Zuvaleyuth was asleep. Golds generally don't have good reactions to anyone messing with their eggs." Hotaru has a feeling it wasn't Jamen's idea to go prancing about on the sands. But since she wasn't there and doesn't have any proof, she keeps her comments to herself.

Borodin frowns as Jamen is escorted out, and his gaze goes between Edani and Mikal, looking over at Queska for a brief flicker and then over to Zaala. "Yeah. Well. Sometimes people get pushed around." Ya think, Borodin? He's kind of the poster boy for that, after all. Another little flicker at Queska, and he takes in a deep breath before stepping away from the wall toward her. "So, uhm… Were you at Western today?"
"Yeah well maybe he did touch the egg. Or did more than touch the egg." Mikal asks worriedly from his cot. He's settling into it for the night for this whole thing is tiring to him. Reaching under the cot he pulls out a jar of oil and begins smoothing it over the still trembling green firelizard in his lap. "This is so so bad." he mutters.

Edani doesn't much care. He's tired. And he's had enough of close living with Queska as he cares to endure. He merely grunts at Zaala. "Just sayin'," he notes, "If she was involved, we're better off with them knowing and dealing with both of 'em." He's annoyed enough with the whole situation and resulting ruckus to simply shuck his clothes and flop into bed in his undershorts without giving thought that the curtain isn't pulled and the lights are still on. Sleep calls. Loudly. His eyes are drifting shut even as he pulls the sheet up to his chin. "Someone get the lights 'n tell mom to give me five more minutes when the alarm goes off. Kthanks." Snoooore.

Harmony has been here the whole time, really. Perhaps she's only just now started *really* paying attention. Like a zombie. Only now she's giving the muttering Candidate a closer look. Queska, who's name she's never bothered to remember. Lips thin, but she's turning back to the hubbub. Totally here. Really. Doing as the rest of the group is meant to be doing.

Queska shrugs and steps away from the wall, sitting gracefully on the edge of her cot and pulling out her brush to start moving it through her hair with slow, practiced strokes. "Exactly," she says to Zaala, giving her a sweet, sweet smile. "He's getting what he deserved. I don't think any of us will miss him that much." With another small shrug of a slender shoulder, she glances at her group of friends and grins, which just makes them all giggle and titter, hiding their lips behind their hands.

Zuvaleyuth's quieted it down, either from identifying the Candidate or being talked down. Dtirae has been shuffled out by Th'ero as well, but whether or not the Weyrwoman has calmed down is another story.

Mikal gives Queska another dirty look. There's something about that girl he doesn't like but he keeps quiet to give Elsie attention.

Abigail is quiet as she watches while Weyrleaders descend upon Jamen, she isn't fully sure if he is all to blame. At the talk about bed she won't have a problem with that in the least. She is quiet and watchful as ones leave the room. Soon enough her gaze goes back towards Queska once she hears the others voice yet again. "Ye and yer little group was rather giggly earlier. Makes ones wonder whatever for. I can't image ye all know that many amusing jokes to keep one another's attention for that long of a time." Abbey has never been one to keep her thoughts to herself for long on certain matters, though perhaps she could have used a different manner to approach it. A shake of her head is seen while she moves to sit upon her cot and is able to pry her firelizard from her shoulders and lets him curl upon the pillow. Hearing Borodin she glances up to her brother curiously watching to see what Queska might say now, an at the answer she rolls her eyes, a faint huff escapes her.

Are they able to amble about the Candidate Barracks again? Harmony totally takes this opportunity to make her way back to the bed, giving Queska a sharp look, but hey, she's self-absorbed enough to not say much. Yet, anyway. Flopping down on her bed, she tucks her little feet beneath her buns and smiles a sweet smile made of sugar'd confection in Queska's way. Hey, she can give tit for tat in the fake-sweet department. "I'm sure," she blinks obviously, fluttering those golden lashes, "We wouldn't miss you much either."
Borodin 's frown deepens as he listens to Queska. He glances around, checking for reinforcements… though with Edani and Mikal both turning to their own affairs, that seems rather lacking. Borodin looks down at his feet for a moment, then takes in another breath and looks up to Queska again, her and all her many friends, and he makes an effort to square up his shoulders as he walks toward her. "Yeah. Not many of us know him. He's kinda quiet. Y'know."

Queska arches her brows at Abigail, and snorts. "No doubt you haven't heard many good jokes, then. Or perhaps you just didn't understand them. Why don't you go do pushups or something and keep your opinions to yourself?" Flicking her haughty gaze to Harmony, she lifts her chin slightly. "I'd miss you. There's a lot of you to miss." Did she just call tiny-Harmony fat? And then, as her gaggle of girls are giggling and watching on with that rapt 'I'm a follower' attention, Queska looks at Borodin. "Well," she says, some irritation in her voice as she flips her hair over her shoulder and sets her brush down, "now he's extra quiet. Wherever they sent him."

Zaala recalls, "Even if he didn't touch the eggs, what is there to prove by sneaking onto the sands?" It's a weyrbrat thing, she knows, but it never did make much sense to her to spy on the eggs when he galleries were -right- there, much less go tromping around the sands uninvited. As for Borodin's remark, she sighs softly, rolling a shoulder and taking her hair with both hands, trying out that new comb she bought. She untangles some of the loose strands and keeps that comb trailing through the wild pieces of her blond hair, idly noting about Jamen, "It's none of our business now anyway." The fact that Queska agrees with Zaala just makes the weyrbrat shrug once again. When the girls break out into giggles, she frowns and goes back to her comb and her hair.

Abigail grins as she hears Harmony and glances over to the girl with a slight amused look seen. She soon glances back to Queska and tilts her head, slight shrug seen. "Oh I've heard plenty. As for my opinions I merely offer them freely." She leans back upon her cot, resting upon her elbows. "He was quiet before, only lot make much noise around here would be ye and yer little giggle friends there." She has never been one to understand how someone can follow around another so blindly, and giggle like that.

Like a little piranha sensing blood in the water, Harmony's smile only grows wider. Oozing with a syrupy sweetness that stings, she rejoins with, "Of /course/ you'd miss me." Lofty is the sound that coats her sugar-sweet voice, "Because /obviously/ you don't have much better to do than titter tatter with a bunch of idiots." /She/ can be a mean girl too! A sharp-eyed look is given to Queska's gaggle of cronies. Dismissively, she cants her head in Abigail's direction, her eyes giving her fellow Candidate a look from beneath the golden bring of lashes. "Don't worry. You're not missing much. The idiot brigade certainly won't get very far." Woah, for once Harmony's /defending/ someone? Say it ain't so!

Borodin crosses his arms in front of himself. Hey, they're a defense, right? It'll totally save him from Queska and her gaggle of girls. He swallows, but keeps his gaze on her. "So. Doesn't much seem like the sort… to do that." Gulp. "Not on his own, anyhow. But, I mean, a boy'll do a lot of things if a girl he likes says to. Especially if she's pretty, and popular, and says… says maybe she'd like it… like him, if he was brave. If he did something like that." His fingers squeeze at his arms, hard enough to leave little white marks there. "A boy'll do some pretty stupid things, for that."

C'mon, giggling is fun! Especially when you're laughing at other people. Queska turns her gaze to Borodin, eyes narrowing in on him. And she looks genuinely /insulted/. "Are you suggesting," she says, ignoring Harmony (who is, like, totally beneath her), "that I /flirted/ with that loser, and got him to do it?" She snorts, standing and peeling off her tunic. Look, a bra! Does it have magical 'make Borodin blush' powers? Though she turns her back on him the next moment, grabbing for her soft nightshirt. "Puh-lease. He is so not worth my time." But Borodin did call her pretty. So she winks at him over her shoulder before she sits on her cot again, and shimmies out of her pants.

Zaala keeps that comb brushing through her hair, likely she'll comb up to or near at least fifty strokes before she's done with the long wild mess, listening to everyone's opinion and then the confrontations of the girls snipping at one another. "Oh Faranth's Tail," she curses, so annoying those tangles! Grunt. She sets down her comb eventually with a huffy sigh, eyes roving over toward Borodin's comments, keen to note the way that Queska acts. Zaala smirks, "It is actually pretty easy to get a boy to do what you want." Talking from experience Zaala? Probably. The girl starts to braid her hair now, parting the longer lengths into pieces, "You don't even -have- to like him back." It's not that she's agreeing with Borodin or even defending Queska, she's -just- saying.

Abigail chuckles softly as she hears Harmony. "I dan't bother me all that much." She titls her head to curiously watch Borodin, her brother is making some rather vaild points. "I get the feeling he wouldn't have done anything like that without someone suggesting something ta him." Her gaze narrows as she watches Queska. "I hope he has enough sense to tell 'em if that is the case." She lays back, arms folded under her head and ankles crossed while her eyes close. Seems like her comments are done for the night, chores come early after all.

Oh, are we playing the ignore game? Harmony can so play that game /and/ probably get a good olympic medal from it. She mutters something under the voice, one word sounding like 'witch' or a word that comes close to it. Until Queska is all snotty. "He's probably the only boy that'll pay you any attention," she says in mock-sweet sympathy. Sincerity drips like melted icing from her tones. Slipping off her bed, she picks out her frilly pink with white polka dots pajamas and begins to slowly undo her hair, letting it fall, golden, down her back. Ho-hum. Queska has quickly lost her appeal to barb. It's time to get herself primped and ready for lights out.

From Edani's cot there's a quiet snore. Pillow over his face, brown firelizard snuggled around the top of his head to muffle the conversation. Guess who isn't paying attention to class?

The fact that Borodin's hands do not tremble as Queska turns that look on him is a testament to how tightly they're gripped around his arms. As it turns out, terror is capable of blocking the blush receptors. His ears don't turn pink in the slightest, and his gaze doesn't leave Queska's face. (The eyes. The eyes are what tell you when wild creatures (girls, right, girls) are about to attack.) As Zaala adds her sixteenth-mark, he nods. It's true. Boys are easily swayed, and girls? They don't have to like those boys in the slightest to do it. "I'm just saying." To Queska's wink, he shakes his head sharply. "I have a girlfriend. And even if I didn't, I've already made that mistake." He takes in a deep breath. Now what? He hesitates a moment. "Uhm. Yeah." He turns and walks away quickly back to his cot.

Queska ignores the mean things said to her (or about her), finishing getting dressed and then slipping beneath the covers of her cot. She snorts (delicately!) at Borodin's comment, but apparently has nothing further to say. So she pulls on her soft eye-mask with her trader band's crest stitched over the temple, and for all intents and purposes, is asleep. Her gaggle of girlfriends slip away too, each one following her example. Brushing hair, changing into nightgowns, pulling on eye-masks and then drifting off to sleep.