Sponsored by

Chayil sits out at a table, sheets of vellum stacked neatly beside her as well as one upon which she's writing with an apparently sharp-nibbed pen, filling up the page with small, neat letters more swiftly than most can write.

Tethry steps in from the Resident's Hallway.
Tethry has arrived.
Tethry wanders out into the Inner Cavern from the Residents' Hall, an arm full of cloth as she makes her way over to her work bench. Putting the cloth down on her workbench, she adds it to the various other assorted stacks.

Rulyn comes in from the bowl. The day's dust and grime have finally been washed off, and his long dark hair still hangs wet. A towel around his neck prevents it from dripping wetly down his back and onto his trousers. Chayil, he knows, so he wanders that way, saying, "They've got you on scribe duties, now?"

Chayil's head lifts, and as she waves to the seamstress, she answers Rulyn's question. "Not exactly. You know how they tell us we can't progress in our crafts while we're here? I'm not going to progress, but I thought I'd at least finish writing down a few thoughts I had." Should either of them look, the pages are filled with musical notation. /Filled/, mind you.

Tethry finishes up her sorting and turns to regard the two candidates, smiling she offers a nod before turning to head to the living cavern.
Tethry ambles out into the Weyr's Living Caverns.

Rulyn gestures to a seat. "May I?" he asks. Then suddenly retracts that... "I'm sorry, I should leave you to work."

Chayil gestures to the seat. "Oh, no, go ahead! It's not really work at all. I mean, it is, but the thinking is the hard part. Once I get to writing it down, it's all easy. It's like taking dictation. Go on, then," urges the little redhaired girl, nodding again at the chair.

Rulyn takes a seat, then. He finds himself looking at the musical notation, all upside down, but forbears to make some cheesy comment about hen scratchings or somesuch. "Getting down the music in your head?"

Chayil's nod is automatic. "That's the easy part, writing it down once your mind hears it. The hard part is getting your mind to hear it. It's like writing any letter, you know. Figuring out what to say is the hard part, and writing it down once you know how to say it is a cakewalk."

Rulyn nods. "I watched my mom write the same letter for nearly a month," he comments.

Chayil looks up at that. "The same letter? For a month? She must've had a /lot/ to say.

Rulyn nods agreeably. "She did. Not that she had a lot of time to concentrate on it, but she was scratching at it anytime she had a few extras." He changes the subject, "You've been a candidate before, you said?"

Rulana comes out from the Candidates' Barracks.
Rulana has arrived.

Chayil sets down the pen and leans back, taking the chance to crack her knuckles and fingers one by one, stretch out those tendons. "Two turns ago I got searched at Igen, too. It was Junni's Tasieth's clutch that time, and it was so much fun. I got a really good poem out of it, which I needed for part of my promotion requirements to full apprentice, up from junior. I got to meet so many people, too. I sure did miss them for the last two turns! Some of them impressed, and some of them stayed here even though they didn't. There are still some I haven't seen, though," muses the smallest candidate, also the youngest by at least a turn and a half. "What about you? Did you ever stand before, at...um...I can't remember where you said?" A wave towards Rulana as she's speaking, and a smile, signal welcome, should Rulana wish to join.

Vanadia strides in from the Living Caverns.
Vanadia has arrived.

Rulana wanders out from the barracks, rubbing at her eyes. Pausing as she notices Chayil and Rulyn she screws up her nose too. "I'm so tired that I /can't/ sleep now." she says quietly as she tries to rid herself of the daze that she's kind of walking around in and heads over towards Chayil and Rulyn. "You're not tired?"

"Telgar," Rulyn says automatically. He looks up and waves to Rulana. "Not tired," he echoes. "Probably a time thing," he suggests. "Sun sets here well before it sets at Fort."

Chayil's sitting at one of the tables with sheets of vellum and a few writing implements positioned in front of herself, with some of the vellum covered in musical notation. "I'm just finishing up some things I've had in mind for a while. Come sit down?" she offers, nodding towards another chair beside herself and Rulyn. "Rulyn was telling me about Telgar. Did you say you stood there, Rulyn?"

Vanadia enters from the Bowl, rubbing at the slight bit of sand in her eyes. "Hello, all," she calls to anyone, pausing so as to fully clear her eyes.

Rulyn shakes his head. "I did not," he responds to Chayil. Then echoes the greeting, saying to Vanadia, "Hello. You okay, there?"

Chayil also waves at Vanadia. "We're getting a real little party going here."

Rulana takes the chair by Chayil, peeking a look at the notation as she sits down. She waves over to Vanadia at the call, then rests her chin on one hand, head wanting to wobble sleepily on its own. "So who of our group have stood before then? Have we established this?" she speaks from idle curiosity of course.

"Yes; a sand whirl hit me in the face, that's all." Tears mist her vision, but the sand is finally gone - faces appearing where blobs had once been.
Vanadia says "VANADIA said that."

Chayil's hand goes up. "I have. Joshi has, too -- I stood with her two turns ago. I can't remember for sure, but I think I saw some of the others last time, too...mostly other Igen residents get the chance more than once, I think. I doubt I'd have gotten searched again except that I was in the right place at the right time."

Vanadia is 5'8", and around 119lbs. Her eyes are an almost incandescent shade of violet, and seem to roil with different hues, according to the light and her emotions. Hair is flaxen blonde, straight, and fine - though there is much of it. Her complexion is a light, creamy tone with faint blushes of peach on cheeks. Vanadia's frame is tall and willowy, with understated curves and a lithe elegance. Her features are a combination of curves and angles: oval face with striking, angular cheekbones; softly arched brows; thin, arrogant, straight nose; huge doe eyes with long lashes; small, firm chin with a tiny dimple; fine lips, with the lower fuller than the upper; long, swan-like neck. She could be described as emphemerally beautiful. Vanadia appears to have 21 Turns. She wears mostly 'used' dresses of faded colors and thinner fabrics - whatever she is able to either find or be given as a hand-me-down. When in more formal circumstances, 'Dia will wear her only better dress: made of a gauzy cotton-like material, it has a moderately-scooped neckline, simple straight sleeves (to mid forearm), and is ankle-length. It's color is a dark lavendar, with some light, leafy-green stitching around hemline and cuffs.

Rulyn is watching Vanadia with concern, though he at length seems satisfied she's okay. He gestures towards a seat, a lazy gesture, an invite if she's so inclined to wander over. "I haven't," he pipes up, in case that wasn't clear.

"What about you, Rulana?" asks Chayil. "Did you ever stand, where you came from?"

Rulana shakes her head. "My sister has stood a couple of times, but never me. and I'm from Fort Weyr, so I've watched lots of times, but no dragon had ever bothered with looking at me twice before. I was rather surprised, I must say. THough even more surprised when they asked Ryklin to join us too."

Rulana has disconnected.

Rulyn points out, "I was rather surprised, too. I practically begged to stand at Telgar, when my mother's brown was the sire, and they declined."

Vanadia nods at the teenager, and carefully moves over to the seat he indicated - sitting down with a sigh.

Chayil nods at Rulana, idly picking up her pen to fiddle it between her fingers. "I always thought Weyrfolk could stand any time they wanted, just by signing up. That's what I heard from the boy who grew up at Benden Weyr. He stood there twice, just by asking to stand."

Vanadia blinks at that comment with slightly reddened violet eyes. "I thought Search wasn't legitimate unless you were Searched by a dragon. It's hard to belive anyone would be allowed to Stand by simply asking..."

Chayil nods vehemently. "I thought it was weird too, but he said that if the dragons didn't bring in enough candidates, weyr kids were asked by riders if they wanted to stand, and they'd take the first ones who said yes."

Rulyn rolls his eyes. "My mother--who impressed at Benden--insisted that it's quite traditional for weyrkids to Stand. But the gold dam's rider is a younger rider, and she insisted on only dragonchosen candidates."

"Strange indeed..." Vanadia blinks repeatedly, trying to force her sensetive eyes to settle down. Belatedly, she says to the young man, "I'm Vanadia. I live here for the moment." A small smile as she wipes excess tears away.

Chayil stands up to lean over and offer a calloused hand for Vanadia to cover. "I'm so sorry! I should've introduced myself. I'm Chayil, formerly of Harper Hall. You've met Rulyn of Telgar?"

Rulyn responds, "I'm..." But Chayil beats him to the introductions. "That's me," he says. "Were I Ryklin, I'd make some suave comment about making the ladies cry. Frankly, not a single one comes to me, right now. Well met, Vanadia."

Vanadia shakes her head at both of you, though she slowly covers Chayil's palm with her own. "Well met, to the both of you. And I remember you - Chayil - from the day the queen was laying her clutch. I was watching, too."

Chayil echoes, "Well met. And it's a pleasure. Yeah, I guess a lot of people heard that day. M'val's not the most subtle person, is he? But I guess he got his point across, didn't he? I'm here!"

Elseve walks out of a cavern opening.
Elseve has arrived.

"What a way to be Searched - and the first candidate, at that!" Vanadia smiles with reserved mirth. "I thought you were going to explode, you were so happy."

Rulyn is sitting at a table, chatting with Chayil, a fellow candidate, and Vanadia. "When you're the first," he comments, "It's a long wait for the eggs to harden. Sometimes I think those that come in the sevenday before the hatching have it easiest. Much less waiting."

Chayil admits it without the least bit of embarrassment. "You bet I was. I love my craft and my Hall, but I missed Igen a lot after I went back. It's a beautiful place, and anyhow, it's a grand adventure."

Rulana has connected.

Elseve makes her way into the inner caverns, helmet already carried under one arm and her gloves tucked into her belt, she whistles to herself quite audibly, no recognizable tune, and when her eyes fall upon the three she smiles brightly, "Ista's duties to Igen and her radient queens!" She calls over to them.

Chayil pops out of her chair and plays hostess. "Good evening, rider, and please carry Igen's greetings to Ista. Are you looking for smeone?"

Vanadia almost stands - then remembers she's not stuck in her old life anymore. Instead, she opts for a, "Hello, greenrider," and a bob of her tow head.

Elseve shakes her head, "Not really, I was just transporting one of our recordkeepers who's come to help out a friend for a while and I thought I'd pop my head into the living cavern and snag m'self a bit of klah before I head back." She grins, "But where are my manners..." Her eyes flicker vacant for a moment and she snorts, "I probably left them somewhere between, or so says my green companion. I'm Elseve, Elsie for short. Timor wingrider at Ista with green Dulcibeth."

Rulana echos Chayil's greeting, in sentiment of not exact words as she too stands politely to see if they can be of any assitance. At Elseve's answer though she smiles, no more running round for the time being. "Rulana, late of Fort Weyr."

Chayil makes introductions, unable to abandon harperness just because of search. "Candidate Chayil, ma'am. These are candidates Rulyn and Rulana, not related, and this is Vanadia. Welcome to Igen. If we can help you find anything or anybody, or make you more welcome, let us know. Right?" she asks, thinking only as a last resort about asking actual permission from the older, wiser, and less /forward/ others.

A small smile at Chayil's Harperness poking it's head out. "Well-met, Elseve. Your green has a lovely name."
Vanadia pages to Chayil, Elseve, Rulana, and Rulyn:  My bad. It was me - thought I put my name in. Must be getting old... :p

Elseve smiles at the names and glances to each as the introductions are made and then her eyes return back to Chayil and rest there, "Chayil, hm? Heard your name not long ago." She murmurs, one hand moving to rest against her hip.

Rulana looks over to Rulyn and hmms thoughtfully. "We're going to have to explain our names for the whole candidacy aren't we?" Then she grins almost cheekily "You wouldn't consider changing your name, or answering to one that we come up with for you, would you?' Faranth only knows what those girls could come up with if they put their heads together. Looking over to Elseve, she nods though. "And of course, if you need anything, just holler at us. We're getting good at coming when we're called."

Chayil points at herself. "My name? Are you sure?" wonders the girl, as if she felt she was too little for anyone to have heard her name. "Maybe you mean my brother Gayil."

Elseve hms softly and her brows arch slightly as she asks, "Are you from the Harper Hall?"

Chayil turns to look at each of the other young people before answering. "Yes, ma'am, I am. But I've never been to Ista. How do you know me? Are we related?" She peers intently at Elseve's face, in search of common features, and finds none of note.

Elseve chuckles, "Nay, girl, we're not related. I was at the Harper Hall not long ago, playing transport wagon - carting a messenger about, and I began talking to one of the apprentices, mm..." And she pauses, recolecting the name, "Korynn, I think the name was and he mentioned that his friend had been searched to Igen."

Chayil's face lights up in a silent 'aha', and one finger lifts up in the air. "That's it, then! Korynn is sort of a project of mine. That is to say, I was helping him with his drum beats, and the non-percussion requirements. I think he's going to be a very good harper one day," says the child who's about half of Korynn's height and /looks/ about half his age, too. "Is he all right?"

Vanadia suddenly stands. "Please excuse me. I forgot something important outside." And she nods to all of you before heading back out to the Bowl.

Chayil waves after Vanadia, though remaining focused mostly on Elseve and the huge coincidence.

Vanadia walks down a long, winding corridor to the bowl.
Vanadia has left.

Elseve smiles, "He seemed well enough, not quite what I expected of a Harper... bad manners." She smirks, and winks, showing her jest. "Didn't even introduce himself properly.

Solidarity among apprentices (and former apprentices) prompts Chayil's automatic response. "Well, ma'am, he's very new to harpering. They don't cover introductions and diplomacy till the second term. I'm sure they'll teach him the right way soon, especially if you let a master know about it at the time."

Rulyn snickers at Rulana's suggestion. "I'm quite content with my name," he muses to her. "It would have to be something quite stellar for me to agree to it."

Chayil, the practical one, points out, "You'll have to change it anyhow, if you impress. You might as well start thinking what name you'll take, if it happens that way."

Rulana grins at Rulyn. Something in that grin says that if she thinks of something, it will be spectacular, and totally ridiculous too probably. "I'll just have to look round for inspiration.' she says, then nods to Chayil "Good point. You should think of this, Rulyn."

Rulyn smiles slightly at that. "I've had it with people hearing tell of Ryklin and Rytran and when they meet Rulyn, they think I'm the lecherous one they heard about. So I hesitate at taking R'lyn, for L'han tells me there's a bronzerider at Reaches named R'lym. At Telgar there's a rider named R'yn. So even in changing it, it will be difficult for me to escape mistaken identities."

Chayil nods sagely. "The R' part wouldn't be so bad, but the 'lyn part is just /everywhere/. There's a greenrider named something-lyn at Telgar, and here we've got a bronzerider named K'tyn. He's the retired weyrleader. Maybe you could take Ur'lyn, or U'r... No, not that one." She makes a face. "R'ul, maybe. L'rul. Hm."

Elseve blinks vacantness out of her eyes and chimes in softly, "M'weymate's name is U'lyn. Come to think of it, there are a lot of something-lyn's. You're right Chayil."

Rulyn bobs his head. "I know, I know, it's not easy. U'lyn rather appeals to me..." Then points at Elseve. "There ya go. That wouldn't work, either, then."

Chayil smiles cheerfully at Elseve and confesses, "I'm glad I'm not going to have to contract my name. I like my name the way it is, and Ch'yil would be even harder to say for most people than Chayil."

Elseve's eyes go vacant once more and she grins, "Oh well, guess there's no klah for me this trip, Dulci is itching to get back to Ista and sleep, and I don't want her too tired to between us back safely. So, farewell all, it was nice to have met you, best of luck to you on the sands, if I don't encounter you before then." She smiles and slips out.

Elseve walks down a long, winding corridor to the bowl.
Elseve has left.

Chayil stands up again, proper as you please. "Thank you for your visit," she calls out, but the greenrider is gone.

Rulyn clucks his tongue. "I may have to go back to my parent's names and get a new combination, one that I can actually contract without being confused with half the rest of Pern. Oh! G'night," he says to the Rider.

Chayil sits back down and, pushing the pages on which she's been working aside, selects a smaller sheet of scratch paper. "What are your parents' names? We'll help you. Of course, you don't /have/ to use their names. My name isn't anything like my parents' names, and it only sounds like my brother's because we're twins."

Rulana ooohs at Chayil "You've a twin?" then looks back to Rulyn "So what were the names again?' just in case she's missed it
Rulyn grins. "It's weyrcustom to do so, though my mother flouted custom with her last baby. The names are Ursa and Emlyn." He snickers. "Rem'lyn."

Chayil nods at Rulana's question, but passes it by; she's been a twin her whole life, so it's no great novelty for her. "Ursa and Emlyn. Remlyn's not so bad, but you'd still have to contract it to something either common or awkward. What about Emu, or Salem, or maybe Samur? And I still think that if you impress, L'rul is kind of nice. It's got a strong sound, don't you think?"

Rulyn points out, "I'm not seeking a new name. Despite our friend Rulana's wishes. Just a new contraction." He sighs. "I could include my father's name, but it's not right to drop either of my parents to include him."

Chayil's brow wrinkles for barely a moment before she catches on. "Oh. You're right...well, what's his name? Maybe we can all find a way to add him in, and then contract it all down."

Rulyn says, "Kylarr." Then suggests with a grin, "Kyrulynarr."

"That's it!" Rulana yells, then laughs. "Or something that we'll be able to spell if we had to write it down sometime."

Chayil scribbles down, Kylarr, Ursa, Emlyn, then writes each letter separately, crossing off duplicates. "Em'kur? That's one you don't hear every day. Ur'kem? Ur'lyk?"

Rulyn listens to them all, and then throws up his hands helplessly. "All my life," he says, "I've been RULYN. Trying to answer to something like Em'kur would just be more change than I want," he admits. Then, "L'han changed from Phelan to L'han, but even that's not a real stretch."

Chayil notes drily, "Well, having your dragon yelling it in your head will probably help. Look, your name's going to change if you impress. You might as well change it to something you like, right?"

Rulyn suggests, "Can't we just change it now to Rukylyn, and then contract it to Ru'lyn?"

Chayil writes down all the alternatives mentioned, plus a few she doesn't actually mention out loud, two of which are Ru'lyk and Ul'ryk, and hands over the page. "Whatever you like. It's /your/ name, after all. Anyhow, it might not even change. More than half of us will go home after this, you know. But think about it. In the meantime, we could call you Ru. And Rulana, you could become Lana, since it was your idea to change names in the first place."

Rulyn looks at the sheet. "Ru'lyk isn't bad," he comments. "Ru'lyk," he attempts, again. "They did call me Ru, at times, at Telgar."

Chayil smiles with a touch of self-congratulation, handing over the page with a flourish. "There you go, then."

Rulana is still going over the letter in her head, a wicked smile forming "You know.." she says quietly, "IF we changed it to that, you could also contract it to R'kylyn." Now wouldn't /that/ cause some troubles. Chayil's suggestion she gives some thought. "Yes it was, and I'll go by Rula is that makes it easier. but they called me Ru at Fort too, so that would be even more confusing."

Chayil sighs, taking the paper back. "Back to the old drawing board."

Rulyn suddenly cracks a yawn. "Okay," he says. "/Now/ I'm tired. And I don't care to scrub exhausted in the morn. If you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to go dream of crazy names."

The small face of this young woman is dominated by eyes of the deepest blue which switch between looks of mischief and total innocence. Her mouth is small, and her lips are often set in what could -almost- be a smile. Falling neatly braided down her back, it would be unusual for her red hair to be out of it's proper place. Though not exactly skinny she is nonetheless a little on the thin side, and often has both arms and legs well covered to try and hide this fact. Around her neck sits a silver pendant. She appears to be about 20 Turns, 7 months, and 0 days old, but looks could be deceiving. (+detail for pendant)

Small stitches in interwoven lines border the neckline and bottom hem, the creamy threads contrasting nicely with the deep blue of the sisal dress Rulana wears. Cut to rest just on her shoulders, it remains modest, it's sleeves ending just below the elbow, kept in place by cream-hued ties. Falling gracefully to near floor level, it hides the fact that more often than not, Rulana neglects to wear any shoes. Woven through her braid are fine ribbons that match the blue of her dress.

Rulana smiles apologetically, "Or we could all just go by our own names and see what happens later." With a wave she nods to Rulyn "Night, sleep well."

Chayil nods in satisfaction, sliding the paper back across, in case either of the two wants it. "Sleep well," echoes the former harper. "I should go to bed, too. Laundry's one of the early morning chores, with all the boiling and all."

Rulyn rises, though he lingers a moment, taking a good long look at Rulana, noting especially the red hair and blue eyes. "It's a good thing we don't look the least bit alike. No one will think we're twins once they meet us, Rulyn and Rulana." He takes the paper. "I'll hold onto this. G'night!"