Boys in the Barracks

OOC Time: Saturday, October 16th, 2010.
Season (North Continent): Late fall.
Weather: It is fall.
Current Location: Candidate Barracks (#816) - Zone: Fort Weyr
Room Occupants:
Wehlim and Cabrien

Candidate Barracks (#816J)
This is a large room with row after row of 'cots' for the Candidates of Fort Weyr's Hatchings to sleep on during their stay at Fort Weyr. Depending on the time of day and 'year' this room oscillates between an utter disaster and a prim and properly kept room. The residents of this room are always on the lookout for sudden headwoman or dragonrider appearances, scattering to clean up the major messes when someone indeed manifests.

Near the curtain, against the wall, is a large bulletin board and, underneath it, a slate with the list of current 'occupants'. There's also a 'chores' list, and a life-sized cutout of a suitably-dressed 'example' candidate.

Wehlim and Cabrien are here.

The candidate barracks are no where near filled at this point, but having lived in the residents' barracks for a time, and in crowded quarters before that, has left Wehlim almost oblivious to the comings and goings of other occupants. As such, he doesn't even look up at Cabrien's entrance. He does, however, release a soft, frustrated sigh before he shoves the hides away and falls back onto his pillow, pressing his palms against his hide sockets.

Cabrien enters the barracks, and in following with his daily routine is fresh from the baths. He's also munching on the sliced sections of redfruit. In passing Wehlim's cot, the hides are given a glance and that tensed fist a moments longer study before both are dismissed when he settles down on the edge of his cot. More chewing ensues as he continues to watch Wehlim.

Assuming Wehlim has eye sockets and not hide sockets… Cabrien watches this, before saying, "Harper training." Beat. "Reading, right?" He finishes off the last of his redfruit before leaning forward to take the topmost hide off the stack and prop it on his lap.

"That's 'cause it is until you learn it. It's not that hard." Cabrien puts the hide back onto the pile with the others, then reaches to untie his boots. "Can't give up 'cause you won't ever learn. Then you'll be dumb." Clearly dumb was no way to be. "Start easy. Forget the ballads. Start really easy. Your name 'n the name of stuff you use. Cot. Boot. Shirt. Stuff like that."

"They already think I'm dumb. What's the point." Not really question so much as a statement that there was none. It didn't help that whenever he felt pressured or was around someone of significance that he dissolved into mumbles and stutters, something that he truly couldn't help yet. He gives one good kick, sending the hides scooting across the bed and plopping to the ground with a heavy thud. "Wasn't trying ballads. That's the simple stuff. I think." It was hard for him to tell. "Know sorta how to write my name." Mostly because he'd seen it written enough by now that he knows the general appearance. The squiggles and squirms that eventually got around to representing 'him'.

"Are you?" Cabrien asks, "'cause if you are then don't bother. If you aren't…. show'm." He watches the hides go scooting and again shakes his head. "Kinda sorta isn't 'know how to'. Just keep at it and you'll get it. Or the Harpers'll catch you kickin' their hides and they'll tan yours and it won't be a problem." Win-win.

"I don't know. Don't think so." But Wehlim hadn't exactly been taught enough to know one way or another. It didn't make him dumb necessarily, but it certainly didn't make him smart. "I can't teach myself. I don't know what's right and wrong. Can't tell just by looking at it what it's supposed to mean." not without someone helping him out with it. For now though, "I'll worry 'bout it in the morning." He rolls over onto his side and regards Cabrien. "Notice all the harpers that hang out with the Weyrleader? And now there's a buncha harper candidates." Which was weird in and of it's self.

"Leader business isn't our business," Cabrien intones as he pushes his boots under his cot, swings his legs up and lays down with his arms crossed behind his head. It's his rather upfront way of saying he didn't care why certain things were how they were. The leaders said that's how they were and so that's how they are. "Harpers'll teach you. Ask 'em. It's what they do best. Study… be patient and you'll get it."

Wehlim, by now, is more then used to Cabrien's heroworship of anyone with a halfway decent knot, so that's not the part that phases him. "You really aren't curious about all of that? i mean.. They're really odd too. They don't like talking to no one but themselves." Or at least, that was the impression the boy had gotten. He rolls back over onto his back and stares up at the half-shadowed ceiling high over head. "It don't mean it's something we can't wonder about, just cause the leader's involved."

"Means we don't question it. Don't talk 'bout it. It's not our business." Cabrien is adamant on that, even to the point of lifting his head to look pointedly at Wehlim. "Whatever he's doin', he's doin' it for the weyr." Presumably to the benefit of said weyr. "You learn anything… it oughta be that."

Wehlim rolls his eyes. Oh yes, Cabrien's stick was too far up to be budged. He should make a point of remembering that fact. "I'm not questioning it just to talk about it. I was just curious. Don't know who tall you all that bullcrap anyway. People question leaders all the time." So, Wehlim comes out of his shell a little, and Cabrien tries everything he can to shove him right back in. Too bad it doesn't work that way.

"I don't." Cabrien may have a stick up his arse, firmly lodged or otherwise, but he at least sticks to his guns. "You wanna last in here… be a good rider, you gotta learn not to. They're called leaders for a reason." He's not preachy so much as matter-of-fact, in that what he believed has thus far served him quite well.

Oh, he was quite preachy! As far as Wehlim was concerned. The younger boy snorts quietly. "I don't think its like that at all. Besides, I ain't a rider, and neither are you. And wonderin about things isn't a bad thing, s'long as you don't get caught." That's the one thing Worm had learned while in the hole. Stay unseen, unnoticed. Sure, obey, but only do what needed to be done in order to avoid notice. Excellence could be just as deadly as slovenliness. "You ain't got no thoughts for yourself, do you?" Meaning, he didn't use his own judgment in things. He simply followed, blindly obedient..

"Maybe not. But I know my place 'n I'm good with it." Cabrien remains nonplussed by his lack of original thought and blind obedience. Comfortable. He's comfortable with it and has no desire to lose that comfort. "Wondering 'bout it puts ideas in your head. Ideas lead to actions, actions lead to trouble. You're caught." He looks over to Wehlim again, "Do what you want. I ain't gonna let you drag me down no hole."

Wehlim listens to all that Cabrien says and in the end just releases a grunt, twisting back around till he's laying down with his back to the older boy. Such is how he would choose to remain.

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