Why Are You Here?


Teallan.jpg E'ro.jpg

Date: July 24th/25th, 2010
Location: E'ro's Weyr, Eastern
Synopsis: E'ro sends for a candidate to help him clean and Teallan is the unlucky one.
Rating: G
Logger: Teallan

The weyr, at one time, may have been something to look at. Now it's a jumble of wrinkled clothes, unmatched boots, and various knick knacks strewn from one place to the next. But it's the luxurious accents that give away its former splendor - beautifully crafted tapestries, plush furs, and high quality bedding amongst the lot. E'ro is busy sitting in the middle of the jumbled mess, digging through a squat chest like a mad man. His sleeves are rolled up, his trousers too, and his hair is a damp mess. Whatever he's looking for, it's unlikely he's found it, as he pushes the chest aside with an angry grunt and pauses to chew on his lip. Yzuruth is nowhere to be seen - off on a hunt or taking his leisure upon the peaks - just conveniently away from the chaos in their home.

Fortunately, Teallan is able to dress a mite better than for her… dirtier and smellier chores. The woman has been brought to this particular ledge and stands just outside the Weyr proper, thoughtful for a moment. She figures if there's any dirty work to be done, she'll have a chance to change. After all, who would allow such nice clothing to be ruined? After glancing over that entrance, she begins venturing further into the Weyr proper, picking her way past the various debris that turns the jaunt into an obstacle course. "Hello?" she calls, voice pitched to carry without being raised. "I was informed you had requested a candidate's assistance?"

"Yeah," comes the easy enough reply, as E'ro unfolds himself from the junk on the floor, wiping his hands down the front of his trousers. "I need someone to clean this place up and polish my boots." Notice he didn't say 'help' clean, simply 'to clean'. "Boots are over there, they need sorting and then polishing. Rags and polish should be over there too." He's pointing towards a pile of three or four - it's hard to tell - pairs of boots. "I'm E'ro, and you are?" His blue eyes finally take her in, good clothes and all, but there's no issue to change, simply a purse of his lips and then a half smile.

That might be her eyelid twitching. Perhaps a trick of the light. Sunbeam reflected off of some shiny doodad left upon the ground. Teallan simply adopts a smile and tilts her head into a nod. "Of course," spoken in response to the orders. From a beltpouch she pulls out a lace and begins tying her hair back away from her face. "Teallan. Formerly a Senior Apprentice Harper at Landing, now Candidate."

Good girl. E'ro might have even patted her on the back had it not been for the mass of junk accumulated on the floor. "You can start with the boots and once that's done, you can move onto the clothes. Everything needs sorts and folding, mostly. But I want those boots to shine, so you'll be at that a while." He turns to address the chest he was just digging in, poking at it with the toe of his shoe. "Gotta be.." Suddenly her words sink in and they have him turning around, eyebrows hiking. "Harper apprentice, hm?" There's consideration put into his words, a second of pause before says, "Instruments, singing, teaching?" That's a question, apparently.

"Of course." Boots. First. Teallan casts a considering eye upon the state of the rest of the weyr, but declines to comment. Likely for the best. She does have a decent sense of self preservation. One too many cruel pranks, perhaps. The young woman makes her way for the boots, retrieving the supplies for shining them on her way. "Singing," she says simply, as if it should be as obvious as the day is long. Kneeling down by the boots, she sets up the supplies and takes one into her lap to begin shining it.

"Singing? Not a bad choice." E'ro hunkers down, moving old shirts and papers aside as he continues looking for whatever it is he's trying to find. "Took to storytelling myself, got a knack for making things up." Imagine that! He's quiet as he reaches under his bed, digging some more, but he comes up empty. "If you find an old pendant, let me know. It's kind of a family heirloom," he sighs, scrubbing his face with his hands. "I've torn this place apart looking for it, still no luck."

"What does it look like?" Teallan inquires, not looking up from polishing the boot she currently has resting in her lap. "I'll be certain to keep an eye on it." She's not bad at shoe polishing, apparently. And quite a focused person.

"Old." Clearly, E'ro needs some work on his descriptions. "It's a weighty piece with a purple stone. You'll know when you see it." Which is probably what's got him so perplexed - it's not something one loses easily. He plops down in the heart of the clutter again, this time with a determined look on his face, as he riffles through all the things he's already tossed aside. Another once over couldn't hurt anything. "So, why'd you choose to come here?" as if it isn't an obvious answer.

"Old," Teallan echoes, a bit of dryness in her tone. Or perhaps it just seems that way because she's scrubbing so fastidiously at that boot? It may bear further consideration. The candidate squints briefly at her work and turns the boot to begin polishing the other side. "I was posted to Landing not long ago and on a visit here, ran into the Weyrwoman. Alara. She was my nanny once upon a time…" holding the boot up to study it in the light and ensure it's properly polished, she shrugs and continues: "I guess she wanted me at the Weyr, so here I am."

Shirts aside, some funny looks trousers, a woman's underdress, and a stone miniature of a dragon - there's just about anything one could want to find in the chaotic heap. "Here you are, huh?" E'ro states absently, as he buffs off a bauble. "Didn't want to come at all? Just owed the woman allegiance?" From his voice, it's obvious he has some thoughts on that; or that he doesn't believe her entirely. "I'd say if someone had asked me and I simply didn't want to come, I wouldn't. So, what's your reason for coming here?" He's adamant, really.

"Never said I didn't want to be here. But that's how I ended up here, I mean, otherwise I'd still be at Landing. The Weyr has two Harpers already." Journeymen, at that. No room for a lowly apprentice. Even if she is a senior one. Teallan finally finishes with the first pair of boots and moves on to the next — how many /are/ there? — to begin shining and tidying them up. Lacings and the like are even tucked inside properly. "I've been fascinated with Weyrs and dragons since I was young and we started learning the Teaching songs and hearing the other ballads… Eastern is new. There hasn't been a new Weyr that the people have been aware of in memory, so it's a chance to be a part of history."

"That's an honorable answer." E'ro doesn't give much more credit than that as he leafs through some stacks of paper. "You didn't desire to Impress? To be more than a part of history?" Here, he looks back at her, an expression of polite interest on his tanned face. "I hear that more than anything else. No one ever believes they'll Impress, they're too fixated on surviving the ordeal and going back to their old life." He shrugs a shoulder, meaninglessly. "I wanted to Impress, I had hoped I would, and I did. None of this," and he tries mimicking her tones, "it's a chance to be a part of history." Mocking the help? Eh, not too unlike E'ro.

A scowl then overcomes Teallan's features. She even sniffs a little. In disdain? Likely, as there's no sign of tears or anything. And it's not like Tea is one to avoid crying when it might be to her advantage. "Well, certainly, I would love to Impress, but I can't say I really see much for my chances." Shoulders rise and fall in a big of a shrug. "There's so many more candidates than eggs, I've heard. I'd rather focus on the known than the unknown. What I know is it's history in the making here and as a Harper, I have the opportunity to at least help document it."

If there is any chagrin over making her upset, E'ro doesn't show it. "No one ever can, can they." He's dry, without wit, as he throws aside an old oil rag. "Eggs to candidates, it's not so different and even then, there's no telling what the dragon wants. Maybe it's you. Maybe it's not. Your chances are as good as anyone else's." It appears this is something he's given thought to, whether over time or just in this interval, who knows. "Try and be positive, at least. I get tired of this, I'm going home after the hatching and I'm helping make history bull." At least he's realistic, right?

"I'm not going home afterwards," Teallan states pointedly, looking sharply in E'ro's direction. "I've wanted to be at a Weyr for a long time and now that I am, I'm sticking around. Whether I Impress or not. I'm just not putting all my marks on Impressing. I want to make sure that if I don't, I've still got myself settled and everything will be alright." She scrubs almost furiously at one boot. That spot may shine better than the rest.

"There you have it - you're at it again. I can't, I won't, I'm not Impressing. What dragon will want you if you've got /that/ attitude? I wouldn't." E'ro shakes his head and braces his fists on his knees. "What's wrong with going back to the Hall? I liked it there. Littlemore to worry about than your lessons, the masters, and your chores. Here there's a slew more of problems. You seek a harder lifestyle for youself?" He's disregarding her spiel of changing history, though that seems to be the basis of this discussion. Sigh.

Teallan scowls somewhat at E'ro, studying him. "/Landing/ is not the /Hall/. Landing is… boring for a Singer. I'm not researching and I want to write and star in plays and musicals, but none of the other Harpers there have any interest. They just want to go through the archives all day long." She sniffs again and this time, she might really be almost upset. "I wasn't /properly/ Searched. I love 'lara and I'm really glad she brought me here, but it wasn't like the other Searchings people get and I've heard rumors already about people not Searched by a blue or green not being good enough and what if it's the same for me?" Now he's gone and done it. It may never stop. "I'd rather figure out what I /am/ gonna be good for, even if it's just working hard and learning, than to sit around all day babbling nonsensically about how a dragon is out there for me and it'll be all great and perfect and wonderful, but what if it never happens? Huh? Better to be responsible."

"I was never insinuating that Landing /was/ the Hall. I was suggesting you go /to/ the Hall if you're of a mind that Landing doesn't suit you. Or be posted to a proper Hold. They'll find plenty for you to sing about. Sing about weddings and babies and the Lady Holder's beauty," E'ro suggests quite flippantly, but the next issue has him laughing openly and turning to stare at her with amused blue eyes. "Not the usual search? Sweetheart. There is no 'usual' search. Blue and greens are sent out to search those they feel have a certain something, true, but that's simply so we don't have to ask everyone we meet if they'll stand. No one really knows, not even the greens and blues. Not everyone they search will Impress, likewise, many of the ones who were simply asked without any dragon presence, /will/ Impress. Don't choose your destiny because a woman and not a dragon chose you." Wise words.

"I don't want to be at a Hold," Teallan states firmly, frowning still. "I want to be at a Weyr. /This/ Weyr." He's never going to stop her obsession with being part of history. It's a fame thing, not everyone would understand. However, she does fall quiet for a moment, mollified it would seem by his words. Certainly the quality of her work on shining his boots increases. "I did not know that. I thought… only really those brought in by a dragon had a chance." She looks sidelong at the man. "So you've seen people just asked to Stand, and not by a dragon, Impress?"

"Fine, fine, /this/ Weyr." There's a bit of compromise as he recognizes her want to be a part of this crazy place called Eastern. "Not sure how much singing you'll get done around here though. They're more likely to put you to use somewhere else than for anecdotes and ballads." He's not exactly being positive himself, but that's mincing words. "I hope they do, otherwise all these turns have been a farce." E'ro leans back, palm on the floor, as he peruses the candidate. "Where did you get that idea? Never heard any preferences either way. Whether a dragon searched them or they were asked to stand, the dragon chooses and nobody else." Probably a goofy Holder rumor or something.

"I've heard people talk of it before and they always send /dragons/ on Search, not people," Teallan points out, lifting a hand to rub the back of it at her eyes and nose furiously. She does, however, follow that up by finishing with the boots. There they sit, all nice and shiny. She puts the supplies away neatly — likely somewhere near the boots — once she gets to her feet and turns to survey the rest of the Weyr. Likely in anticipation of cleaning it. "I'd love to Impress, more than anything," she says, voice rising a little. Not quite hysterical, but perhaps mildly worrying all the same. "I just figured it was… something… for someone else." For daydreams.

"They wouldn't be able to send the dragons if they didn't have /riders/." Clearly. "You're reading too much into the stories people hear. You haven't experienced it first hand, eh? Examined the statistics, huh? I've been around enough to know. It doesn't matter where you're from, your gender, or your ethics.. not even if a dragon or a rider searched you, you've got a chance." E'ro looks up as she gets up from the boots. "Relax. Breathe. You're going to do alright. If it happens, it happens, and if it doesn't, there's always next time. Luckily for you though, next time is sooner than most, since we have two clutches back to back."

"I suppose so," Teallan says quietly, now caught up in thought. Her brow is furrowed and nose kind of squinshed up. It's not flattering, but it's not unflattering either. Just a strange kind of expression. It remains as she starts going about the weyr, tidying things up. Clothes in a pile to be taken to be laundered, boots all put up proper. A vase or some kind of container righted and set on a table. At least she's good at this cleaning thing. Imagine if she weren't… "I guess I just have to wait and see."

"That's the game." Waiting. E'ro hefts himself up from amdist the rubble, dusting off his shirt and trousers. "I need to see to some things in the caverns. I'm sure you'll be completely alright up here by yourself." He gives her a long, silent stare, before leading for his jacket and then the ledge. "Wine's behind the vintner's guide, and I think there's some cookies leftover in the basket by the bed. See to yourself while I'm gone," he calls back.

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