Robemaking

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The following is a log of roleplay at SouCon MUSH (soucon.godlike.com 4201). The world of Pern is copyright Anne McCaffrey.

Cathal strolls in, a small, white bundle in hand. He drops it at a seat at the candidate table, then over to the sideboard for a drink and snack while we work.

Kylia sighs a bit of relief as she plops down in her chair. "I didn't even bother to stop and look" she mutters quietly, peering at the material in her hands.

Edlar walks over from the Landing Field.

Dyani strides over from the Landing Field.

Joslyn apparently knew right where to look for the white fabric used to make all those Candidate robes, for she's already settled herself at a mostly empty table, a full wineskin between herself and the entrace; she was quite serious about that method of warding off the losing riders. Knuckles are cracked as the girl surveys her spread of fabric and thread with a rather clueless expression.

Lily walks over to the klah pot and pours herself a mug, her robe tucked under one arm. Looking around for 'suspicious' riders, she takes a sip of her klah then drops into a seat next to Josy. Spreading out her things she looks at Josyln's pile. "Do you need any help," she asks. Her robe is, of course, already finished - she just has to go over it 'one more time' perfectionist work-a-holic that she is.

Cathal sets his drink down and sets up his matierials near Josy. Apparently, while he had enough foresight to requisition material, he hasn't even started on the making.

Kylia takes a needle and carefully threads a single string through it's eye. Careful as ever, so she doesn't stab herself, she begins to stitch the cloth together. "And when we finish up, there's bubblies rememeber." She nods towards the cooks as they bring out a few different trays.

Dyani tosses her almost-finished robe on a table, along with her sewing kit, then flops down into a seat. She grins at the wineskin next to Josy, and calls, "YOu better hope only one rider comes at you, Josy. Or that they'll fight over the 'skin instead of you." This is followed by a teasing wink, then the former healer starts digging through her kit for a needle and thread.

Thessa walks over from the Landing Field.

A beam is sent up at Lily as Joslyn nodsnods, indicating her table and its empty seat with a please-help-yourself gesture. "I need all /kinds/ o'help!" she answers, typically melodramatic. "You didn't get me nothin' to drink?" she inquires of Cathal before grinning over Dyani's way. "I'd rather have 'em fightin' over th'skin, actually. Gimme time t'run away."

Cathal chuckles, "What would you like? I figured you had a wineskin so were set." He winks at her.

Kylia humms softly to herself as she sews. A wince and a yelp announces to all however, that she's not the world's most perfect sewer. A little circle of crimson appears on the robe towards the very bottom hem. "By the first egg" she mutters, sucking on her finger. "I hate it when that happens." She peers up and looks over towards the others to see how far along they've all gotten. "Hmm, don't think we can have wine" she asides. "Juice might be a better idea. Redfruit or citrus, though I could go for some redfruit at the moment."

You say "I would like juice, please," as sweetly as she possibly can, neverminding that Cathal knows full well the wine isn't for /her/. She pulls her cloth from the table and spreads it out across her lap and the floor, frowning at the bulk. "Supposed t'measure first, right?"

Dyani laughs at Joslyn's answer, then comes up with a length of white thread, which she promptly pushes through the eye of one of the needles. "Aye, we'll need all the time we can get to get out of here once /they/ come in," she replies with a toss of her head towards the exit and flight-crazed riders beyond.

"Citrus is too sour," puts in Thessa at the last moment, as she makes her way in.

Cathal chuckles, "As you wish." He goes over to get a pitcher of redfruit juice and some glasses, brining it back to the table, "Help yourselves." He begins working on his robes, his months as headwoman giving him plenty of skill for the task.

Lily gives the wine skin a half-longing look at Kylia's comment, then shrugs it off and leans over to watch Joslyn work. She nods, "Yes, measure first."

Kylia peers at that little blood spot she painted on her 'robe' and grins for a moment. "Hey, this looks like a face." She turns and peers at the others. "Any of you painted before?" she asks.

Edlar stomps in as manly as he can. Maybe that will ward off marauding male riders. His robe draped over one arm, he drops into a seat near Joslyn and the protective radius of her wineskin.

Joslyn stands up and flings one end of her cloth over her head, quite blinded by the effect though her muffled giggle is quite obvious. "Uhm, I think it's too long," she ventures to guess, kicking at the folds around her feet a bit. "Scissors!" and one hand sticks out from beneath the tent of fabric.

Edlar appears to be in the same boat as Cathal, as far as his stage of robemaking is concerned, once his thigns are laid out.

Dyani begins her work on the unfinished neckline of her robe, neat and tiny stitches placed carefully in the white fabric. "Not me," she answers Kylia without looking up. "I don't know one end of a paintbrush from the other."

Thessa sets down her almost-finished robe, smoothing it out slightly. "How's it look so far?" she asks, holding it partway up. "Painted? Not me..."

Lily looks at the hand, but doesn't offer scissors. She clears her throat, "Uh, I'll cut it for you Josy...it'll probably be easier for everyone that way." Plus, the healers won't have to deal with some candidate cutting off body parts....

Imara emerges through the archway leading to the Weyrfolk residences.

Kylia scratches her chin, looking at Thessa's robe. "It looks better than mine." She grins and then sets her robe side. "I think it'd be fun to paint each other."

One eyebrow raises quite sharply as Lily swivels her head to look at Kylia. "Paint each other?"

Cathal says "Sounds like fun." He winks teasingly, "You strip, I'll get the pain.""

You say "Oh, yeah?" and peeks out from beneath her makeshift hiding place, pulling aside the curtain with the recently held out hand. "Okay. You cut it for me," she agrees readily and enthusiastically. Pulling the end up around her knees, she says, "Can you make it this long?" Absently: "Ain't nobody paintin' Josy."

"I've drawn some," Edlar volunteers. Not that he's any good at it mind you. "I'm better at carving though."

"Paint each other?" Those words to cause Dyani to pause in her sewing, and she looks up at Kylia curiously. "You mean paint /on/ each other, or paint each other's images on canvas?" She rolls her eyes at Cathal's comment. "You're as bad as the riders outside, Cathal," she calls over to him.

Lily leans around the sheet-covered Josy to swat Cathal.

"I don't think I'd be very good at either," volunteers Thessa. She takes out needle and thread, and begins work on the bottom hem of her robe.

Kylia smirks at Cathal and nods. "Sure thing. You can paint me on the beach." She grins and winks, then turns to the others. "Well Edlar, sculpt someone if you want."

Cathal works quietly at his robe, making quickwork of measuring and some of the initial cuttings.

Lily obediently starts to cut the length that Josy indicates. Snip, snip, snip...."Josy, stop wiggling or I'm going to cut you!"

Looking from his pile of fabric to Cathal's robe rapidly taking shape, Edlar heaves a grunt. "Don't suppose you'd care to draw a line around me while I lay on this fabric, would you?"

"Hey, it's kinda hot in here!" informs Joslyn, struggling to get her head out of the side of the fabric once more. "I can't stop wiggling," she argues, though she does manage to keep herself marginally more still.

Cathal glances at Edlar, "Sure!"

Imara wanders in and is obviously surprised at the amount of people in here. She quickly covers it up as she remembers what the occasion is.

Kylia grins and peers at Edlar. "Well I'd offer" she begins, then shrugs it off as she continues to work on her robe.

Cathal sets his work down and moves over to Edlar, "Lie still."

Eyes briefly widening, the terror returning for a fraction of a moment, Edlar swallows it down and clears his throat. "No.. that's alright, Kylia. Cathal here can do it," he protests quickly. Just to prove it, he settles the folded fabric on the floor and lays down with arms straight out.

"You shouldn't do it that way," offers Thessa, forever helpful. "Just cut a hole in the middle, put it over your head, and have somebody else cut sleeves." She giggles softly.

Cathal chuckles, "You want to help him, Thessa? I'm good at my own stuff for this, but haven't triedd it on others.

Lily looks over at Edlar. A sly grin ghosts across her lips, "You know, Ed...Cathal particularly likes *helping* people." Then she turns back to her snipping.

Kylia laughs at Edlar and shakes her head. "I won't bite, I promise I won't." She seems cheerful enough, and that mischevious air that was around her earlier is gone. Still, she shrugs that she's not needed over Edlar and Cathal's way and looks at Joslyn. "Later tonight can we look at your marbles?"

Snip, snip, snip go the scissors...pieces of fabric fall to the floor. "Okay Josy," Lily says, "I cut it a little bit long in case you might need some extra."

Dyani returns her attention to her stitching, though she continues to listen to the conversations going on around her. The last few stitches are slowly put into the neck and she bites the thread off carefully. "Finally!" she mutters, setting down the needle to examine her work.

You say "Could you maybe cutta hole for my head?" Breathless with being stiffled by the fabric, she forgets she's supposed to be holding still and tilts her head out from beneath, a thin sheen of sweat over nose. "Marbles? Oh, yeah. T'night."

"I was going to have him cut around me and then cut a neckhole, so I could just sew up the sides," Edlar explains. "Won't that work?" This is apparently asked fo Thessa.

A little innocent blink. "What's so difficult about it?" asks Thessa. Then, glancing to Edlar, she offers, "Well, you might even be able to get away without sewing. But.. well, if you just belted it, and the belt got loose, I suppose that could be somewhat... inopportune."

Lily stand up from where she's crouched. "Okay, but put your head back under and hold really, really stil..."

Imara settles down in a chair to watch, or be readily available if she's called on.

Cathal chuckles, and lets Thessa take over with Edlar as he moves back to his own robe, apparebntly taking the multiple pieces sewn together route.

Kylia snorts softly towards Edlar and doesn't give him a secomd glimps for the rest of the night. "Yes marbles. Hmmm. I still think we should paint each other." She does the last final stitches on her robe abd stands up, then tosses it over her head to give it a try. "Hmmm. This looks about right. What do you all think?" She models it for everyone, turning about a few times. There aren't any sleeves, it's just like a long piece of material on her body. The color is a bit crooked, along with the bottom hem.

Joslyn probably doesn't know how to 'hold really, really still', but she does her best. There is a minimum of movement, however, just an impatient taptap of booted feet and a folding of arms and blow of bangs off of forehead. "Prob'ly looks great, Kylia," she guesses, still blinded by her own robe beginnings.

Lily looks over at Kylia for a moment. Snip - fabric falls to the floor. "Hmm, well it looks a little uneven at the bottom..." Snip - more fabric falls to the floor. "But otherwise, it's good." Snip - hair falls...huh? Lily blinks and mutters, "woops."

Cathal, pieces in hand, settles into aseat with needlt and thread to assembling them.

Edlar lays himself out flat, wrinkling his nose at the mere thought of a belt coming loose. "That's the last thing I need," he answers.

Dyani glances up from examining her own robe and looks at Kylia's. "Not too bad, Kylia," she answers, studying the fit and construction of the robe. "You might have to wash the blood out of the hem before wearing it on the sands though."

Thessa frowns slightly, glancing at her own robe. "/But/... if you just sewed it up to a bit above the waist, and left room for your arms, you should be fine."

Joslyn is very prompt about repeating, "Woops? Woops what? What woops?" She shoves her head through the new hole, a very worried look settled upon Lily. "What woops? What'd you do?"

Kylia smiles towards Joslyn, then hmms at Lily. All the comments comming in are subsided as she peers to Lily again. "That wasn't your hair, was it?" she asks meekly.

Edlar nods a little, "That would work. But it still needs to be cut to my size... don't want it falling off."

Kylia ehs and peers down at the blood on the hem. "Why's that? I think it gives if character" she says with a little grin.

Lily bends down and picks up...well, yes that would certainly be hair....same color hair.... She opens her mouth to say something, "Uh, Josy, you've been neading a hair cut right?"

"Unless you make the neck hole so big it slips off your shoulders, it shouldn't fall off." Thessa giggles.

"That wasn't my hair, was it?" and Joslyn tugs her fingers through the slightly damp curls, her jaw dropping open as she looks at the hair in Lily's fingers. "Uhm. I guess so. Uhm, thanks, Lily... I think."

Dyani chuckles at Kylia, though the humor is quickly lost as she replies, "Wouldn't want the hatchlings smelling that blood, would you? I don't fancy having to patch up any wounds you might get while the hatching is going on." A grimace follows this, since she knows injuries on the sands are rather common.

Sitting up, Edlar glances towards the mentions of haircutting, curious. "Who's getting a haircut?" he asks.

Cathal glances over, "You cut Josy's hair??"

Kylia blinks at Joslyn and Lily, repeatedly, then turns to Dyani, though her eyes are still wide. "Um, well a little bit of blood wouldn't get to them, right? I mean, they don't smell to great..."

Where the hair now in Lily's palm once was is right where Joslyn rubs - the top of her head sort of in the back. "Uhm," and she blinks between the unattached clump and the scissors. "I don't think I want you cuttin' no more, Lily. No offense..."

Lily drops the clump and ohs, putting a hand to her mouth. Quickly looking at the spot she says, "Oh, Josy, I'm *so* sorry! Maybe if you brush it this way..." She starts to push at the chopped hairs.

Dyani shrugs in answer to Kylia. "Do you really want to risk it?" the candidate asks with an arched brow. "I mean, all it would take is one of the hatchlings getting downwind of you and smelling that, then the next thing you know, you're in the infirmary with a big gash in some part of your body."

Edlar rises from his fabric, lifting it from the floor. Settling back in his previous seat, he brushes away some dust, voicing, "Someone hasn't swept in here lately..." His needle and thread are taken up then, bravely to go forth.

Kylia wrinkles her nose and tries not to look nausiated, however, she is quite the shade of green. "Thank you for that, vivid image Dyani." She peers down at the stain and sighs. "Well I still dunno if it will all come out. But we'll see. At least the smell will. Um, as for...the painting thing" she says yet again, trying to distract both Lily and Joslyn. "Why don't you two paint each other? Let's all pick someone to make some sort of artwork after."

"Wasn't /my/ chore today," defends Thessa as she settles back into her work, carefully stitching the hem.

Cathal is quietly sewing his robe together, a long process, and occaisonally looking at Joslyn's new hair style, a bit disbelievingly.

"/So/ sorry?" repeats Joslyn, watching the clump of her own hair fall all over the floor at her feet. "Awwww, shards! Why does stuff like this always gotta happen t'me?" she moans, trying to brush down the blunt ends of her recently hacked hair. "I don't wanna be painted. I wanna see th'back of my head."

Kylia smirks at Joslyn and Lily. "Paint the back of her head then Lily."

Lily sighs melodramatically. "It's hard to paint texture like hair..." Did she just ake that seriously?

Cathal perks up, "You know, with the right cutting, I bet that could be made to look at least ok..."

Kylia turns and snorts at Cathal. "I want to paint you! And you want to paint me right? Well you offered, but were you joking?" she asks, wagging a finger at him.

Cathal chuckles, "I also said you should take your clothes off. How serious do you think I was? I can't paint. Sew, yes. Paint, no."

Dyani smiles innocently at Kylia. "Just telling it like it is, Ky. Stuff like that happens at almost every hatching." She looks back down at her own, now completed, robe, then sighs. "I don't know the first thing about painting. Whomever wanted me to paint them would probably be completely offended at whatever I managed to come up with."

Edlar glances over towards Kylia, then to Cathal. He leans in and mutters.

Joslyn shakes a threatening finger at Lily, not nearly as upset as she should be. "You stay away from my hair." The finger transfers it's waggling toward Cathal as the girl repeats, "You stay 'way from my hair, too! Does anybody gotta mirror?" Those stubbornly shorn locks are just refusing to lay down, she can tell.

Cathal shakes his head, "I don't, sorry."

Edlar mutters to Cathal, "... careful.... a nude."

Kylia glares at Edlar, and then mock-pouts to everyone else. "Well, I still think it'd be fun. You don't have to be a good painted to paint, you just have to be a painter."

Lily backs up from Josy, putting one hand against her cheek. She sighs again, looking around, "Oh, shards, I wouldn't even begin to know where to look for a mirror...."

Cathal snickers, "She dfid that once already today, Edlar, don't you recall?"

Kylia walks over towards Edlar wearily. "What's this?" She looks to Cathal for an answer.

A beat passes, and only that, before Edlar's cheeks are suffused with that lovely sahde of ripened redfruit. Sinking down in his chair, he mutters, glaring at his sewing--or rather, the needle and thread that won't cooperate and come together to facilitate the beginning of his sewing. He doesn't see Kylia moving closer.

If she was a /normal/ girl, Joslyn might cry over her new hairstyle. Being Josy, however, she'll find some way to grin and bear it. "Can somebody who actually knows how t'work scissors fix this for me, please? 'Cause even /I/ can't walk around like this."

Lily sighs again, "Oh, I'll go find a mirror for you..." With that she runs out.

Lily walks toward the Landing Field.

Cathal chuckles, "Nothing, Kylia." He deftly keeps sewing while talking, two pieces alomost together.

Kylia frowns at the two men and sighs. "What is it with you two? I'm not a tunnelsnake." She looks over towards Joslyn and shrugs. "I can cut a lot better than I can sew, if you'll trust me to do it."

Joslyn now has a clump of hair missing from the back of her head and a half-finished robe hanging from her shoulders. "If you hack it up, Kylia, I'll never speak t'you again," she threatens. "Make it even or somethin', huh?"

Cathal rolls his eyes, "Don't take things so personally, Kylia. Your a perfectly beautiful woman. I just don't paint."

You paged Kylia with 'Lily hacked it, btw. A big clump right out of the back. To make it even, it'll have to be above Josy's ears type short.'.

"I think I'll carve you, Cathal," Edlar announces. That's safe isn't it? He's still trying to figure out how to work this needle and thread thing, continually missing by just >< much. He glances briefly up to Kylia, then lowers his eyes again quickly. Scandalous.

Dyani stands up, picking up her robe and throwing it over her shoulder. "Better put this thing away before it gets dirty. Be back in a few." And with that, she strides out of the hall, hoping to avoid any maleriders that might be lurking around the Weyr.

Dyani strides over to the Landing Field.

Kylia blushes and moves away from Cathal. "That's not what I was referring to." Nodding a bit, she takes the scissors from Joslyn and peers at the hair. "Oh dear. I really hope you like it short. Even...I can do that." She takes the clump that was cut, and snips it lightly until it's even, then works her way around Joslyn's head carefully until she reaches just above the ears. "Hmmm...that looks a little better."

Joslyn, used to curls that will fall in her eyes and against her jaw, blinkblinks in utter surprise as the ends now just brush her...temple! "Awwww, nuts!" is her self-pitying groan, quickly flipped into a wan smile for her stylist. "I'm sure it's /way/ better, doll. Thanks."

Cathal smiles a bit, "If it helps, it's not that bad. Kinda pretty, actually, Josy."

Kylia smiles at her handywork then and nods. "You're welcome." She looks at her own blond hair and shivers a bit. "I don't think I could cut my hair...well, maybe." She ponders for a moment.

A gusty sigh and the shorn Joslyn drops into the nearest chair, to her feet a moment later to pull the half-robe over her head, then sits back down again. "It helps some," she says, raking her fingers through the /really/ short waves. "Lily'd cut it forya, I'm sure," with a wrinkle of her nose.

Cathal chuckles softly, "I'm glad. It really doens't look too bad."

Kylia shakes her head slightly. "No thank you...I think I'd rather have you cut it." She shrugs it off then and picks at one of her longer whitish-blond curls. "I've never had really short hair anyways, not sure how it'd look."

Even if Cathal is just saying it because he's sweet on Joslyn, Edlar has to agree, adding, "It really does look rather flattering on you."

You say "Which is th'same as saying, It really don't look too good." Another heavy sigh falls as the girl digs through the folds of her not-quite-finished robe to find the thread she's yet to use. "You don't want me cuttin' your hair, Kylia. Not if you wanna have any hair at all."

Cathal mutters to himself, " Or ears... "

Kylia smirks at Cathal and then ahems, clearing her throat. "I'm sure you'd do just fine Joslyn...but I think I'm gonna keep my hair. I should cut it a bit though, or at least put it up cause it gets in the way a lot."

Edlar glances towards Cathal, a littel confused. "What about ears?" he asks, finally managing to get a bit of the frayed end of his thread through the needle's eye. Grabbing that little piece, he uses it to pull the rest through.

Joslyn obviously has no idea how to even thread a needle, hunched over the little eye and the thin string with a frown of utter concentration. "I don't guess I got that problem no more," she remarks absently, blowing reflexively at a lock that doesn't quite reach her eyes anymore.

Cathal, finished putting the two main pieces together, starts tying on some arms, "Hmmm? I didn't say anything."

Kylia walks over to Joslyn and looks down at the needle. "Need a little help?" she offers, holding her hands out for the thread and little pin.

Edlar glances up at his own eyelash-length bangs, thoughtfully. "NAh," he finally settles on, pushing them out of his line of vision before searching out a good spot for the first stitch. It is painfully obvious he has not the first clue what he's doing.

"Need a lotta help," and Joslyn nodsnods up at Kylia, relinquishing her thread and needle to the girls palm. Another tug of fingers through her hair follows before she attempts to figure out what she's going to do with her robe now that it's been snipped to length.

Kylia licks the end of the thread, and sticks it through the eye of the needle quickly, tying it off. "There we go. Now...hmmm. You know how a shirt looks when you turn it inside out? That's what we want your robe to look like right now."

Cathal, suddenly recalling this robe is for a specific purpose, one that doesn't require arms, sets them aside.

Joslyn, always willing to relinquish her difficulties to another, pushes the bundle of fabric toward Kylia, saying, "Show me." Drawing up one of her best smiles, she props her elbows up on the table and settles an attentive gaze upon her fellow Candidate. "So I'll be able t'do it right by myself."

Ana strides over from the Landing Field.

Kylia smirks and folds the fabric over together like she did with hers, and puts in the first stitch. "See, just do this" she says, showing how to push the needle through and back, pulling it around again. "Do it all the way down the side of the material here. Just make sure not to sew up your arm hole or the hole where your legs go through."

Edlar's eyes stray towards Kylia's instructions, committing them to memory.

Joslyn doesn't exactly put her hands out to receive her robe again. Rather, she keeps her elbows propped and her chin in her hands and nodsnods heartily at Kylia's directions. "D'you just put it through an'back and through an'back all th'way? Could you show me a little more?" Pretty please.

Nevanian walks over from the Landing Field.

Ana rushes in, apologizing for taking a longer nap than she planned. She joins the group seated.

Kylia grins and arches an eyebrow at Joslyn. "I'm not gonna do the whole thing for you. But look." She does three more nice stitches, then sets the fabric, needle and thread down in front of the girl.

Edlar can help a small chuckle, though it is suppressed enough it might not be heard. Turning his eyes back to his own robe, he starts in, going through the instructions in his mind as he works. Well, when there isn't the fleeting thought of flirting as well as Joslyn to get his robe done for him.

Cathal sets his now complete robe aside, "Still think these things are too simple...

Nevanian enters, his raw materials, the work he's done so far, draped over a shoulder as he looks for a seat near the robe-sewing group, but not in the thick of things.

Ana arranges her nearly complete robe on her lap, the needle quickly making small neat stitches. She bites her lip as she bends forward in concentration.

Cathal chuckles softly, "Oh, just do it, Josy. It will take your mind off your hair.

Joslyn looks down at the fabric and the needle stuck through it, a heavy sigh as she finally starts working on the robe for herself. This is not going to be pretty, mind you. "Yeah, when I'm full o'holes an' - Ow!" There's the first prick. "I'm /bleedin'/!"

Kylia grins and holds out her own finger. "I bled earlier. Deal with it. The quicker you work the sooner you'll be done." She grins and tosses the girl a cloth however to put on the prick.

Ana looks up at Josy's yell, her eyes wincing. "It'll heal quickly...needle pricks don't bleed for long" she says in a cheerful tone, looking down to continue her sewing.

Edlar doesn't seem to notice the few pricks in his calloused fingertips, brow furrowed in concentration as he works from about midway up on down.

A little tiny droplet of blood really doesn't require a cloth, but Joslyn has to keep in with her dramatic doings. Her fingertip is wiped clean and then sucked upon, sewing set aside for the time-being. "This is hard," she remarks around her finger.

Cathal chuckles, "Is it?"

Kylia turns towards Nevanian and Ana with a smile. "You two need help any?" Rolling her eyes she swings back to Joslyn. "It's only hard because you're making it hard."

Onshana strides over from the Landing Field.

Ana looks at Kylia, shaking her head "Oh no...I've sewn a lot. This is just a quick little piece of clothing to do" she answers "Thanks for the offer, though"

Nevanian shakes his head to the former Honshu laundress, "I can do it. It won't look real pretty, but that's more'n fine by me." The expression that crosses his face says that he more than agrees with Kylia's sentiment about Joslyn.

Onshana rushes in with her half made robe in her arms, she skids to a stop inside the door and pants heavily from the run.

Kylia smiles and nods towards Ana Nevanian. "All right then. Well, My robe is done, and I think I have to go was the stain out of my robe. I don't know if I'll be back later or not, I've got other chores to do. Everyone help each other, remember" she adds as she nods to Onshana in greeting before stepping towards the bowl.

"It's /very/ hard," and Joslyn nodsnods that her short curls bob about, her finger removed from her mouth to take up the needle once again. "I'm only makin' it hard 'cause I dunno how t'sew." As evidenced by her clumsy attempts at making a seam. Won't she look just lovely on the Sands.

One side finished--albeit with uneven, odd-looking stitches--Edlar turns the fabric aout and matches up the two sides to find a starting point. That done, he begins once again.

Shadara strides over from the Landing Field.

Nevanian shakes his head as he watches Joslyn's attempts, "Weren't you ever taught how to mend or anything?" he shakes his head again. "I'd help you if I thought'd work, but I think you're more interested in just complaining," says the normally reticent young man.

Cathal chuckles softly, leaning back to watch Joslyn.

Shadara comes into the hall and heads over to get some wine, not looking right or left or at anyone as she pours herself a glass and moves over to sit down.

You say "No. I was never taught t'mend or anything." If she had been taught, she wouldn't be stabbing herself every other stitch and there might be some semblance of order to the crooked line edging its way down her fabric. "An'I don't 'member askin' /you/ t'help me any."

Onshana flops down in a chair with a sigh and lets her robe splay across the table in front of her.

Ana presses her lips together in an attempt to hide a smile, concentrating on the robe in her lap, but listening to Nev and Josy.

Nevanian lets Joslyn score the easy point, keeping his mouth shut now and not offering rejoinder. His work is slow, somewhat painstaking, and neat. Nothing showy, but it's not going to fall to pieces out there on the sands, that's for sure.

Cathal smiles a little, "Let her be. She'll get it done in time."

Joslyn wins. And that's all that really matters to her when it comes down to it. In response to Cathal, "Yeah, lemme be." She's been snipped and clipped, stabbed and teased; it's been a hard night for Josy.

Nevanian raises his head to look at Cathal steadily for a moment, and says, "I don't mind either way, and I said what I had to say, won't say no more," he seems almost puzzled by the former headwoman's interjection.

Shadara hrmphs, "No she won't. I ended up giving Josy my robe and redoing hers, when se were candidates together."

Onshana pulls out the needle and thread and joins the crowd. "So I miss anything interesting?" She tries her best to look like she knows what she is doing.

Cathal chuckles, "I'll make sure she finishes."

Joslyn tilts her head back at Shadara, surpised to see the greenrider out and about but not about to ask. "That's 'cause you're a sweetheart, Shar," with a beam at the woman. "An'if I don't finish, Cathy? What'll you do? Poke at me till I get /more/ bruises?"

Shadara nods, 'Unless saith's proddy, yes I am." she says with a bit of a grin, not even going to supply an answer to Josy's unasked question. "How goes the robe making?"

Cathal says "You've no bruises to begin with. And we'll figure that out if you don't."

"Not a bad idea," Edlar offers up, perhaps not entirely intelligently. The tip of his tongue pokes out the edge of his mouth, unable to withstand the force of concentration.

Onshana bends over her work. The tip of her tongue just slightly sticking out as she concentrates on stitching a straight line. She does make sure she listens to the conversations around her.

"Not good," is Joslyn's absent reply for Shadara, a moment of concetration ensuing complete with furrowed brows. But the work's tedious and it doesn't take much for conversation to be more important. "I do too got bruises," and holds out her forearm for example: A tiny spot that just barely resembles a bruise showing ever so faintly.

Ana lifts the robe up so she can bite off the thread. "One more armhole to hem up" she mutters, smoothing the robe on her lap so she can rethread the needle. Once started, her hands quickly send the needle in and out of the fabric in tiny, yet strong, stitches.

Cathal says "I didn't poke you there, though."

Onshana ouches as she pricks her finger again. The tips of her fingers are red from all the pricks. She peers at a finished line of stiches a smiles happily at herself.

Nevanian stands from his chair to hold his robe up against his gangly form, checking for length. Onshana's the recipient of his question, probably because she's the quietest, "They supposed to hit below the knees, er down to the ankles? I don't remember if mine was right last time."

Shadara hmmms, 'Knees, so you don't trip on ot and in case they have you wear them as the Weyrling uniform I believe, we had to wear them as part of the uniform."

Cathal says "Really? Why?"

Joslyn starts to ask where exactly she was poked, realizes that she's sitting in a sewing circle of Candidates plus a greenrider, and promptly cuts herself off. Not exactly the safest of questions. "Wull, I still gotta bruise so it's prob'ly you're fault. He beats on me when ya'll aren't around, y'know," is her absent remark.

Nevanian seems well on his way to becoming an old uncle with all of his head shaking, but he remains steadfastly silent as he works on pinning up the bottom of his robe, the last part that needs finishing for the simple garment.

Ana glances up, looking at Josy with disbelieving wide eyes, though she politely doesn't say anything about her remark.

Cathal blinks, "I most certainly do not!

Joslyn can't help herself grinning at Ana's expression, trying to wipe the smirk away with the back of her hand and only half-succeeding. "Alright, so he doesn't exactly /beat/ on me," she ammends.

Onshana looks up and between all the candidates arching a brow slightly, but she doesn't say a word and after a moment she goes back to her stitching.

Cathal says "I don't even remotely beat on you, or anyone."

Ana murmers "I didn't think so...you'd be more bruised than that tiny little mark". This said with her eyes on her work.

Shadara chuckles a little and shakes her head a bit, drinking her wine in silence for a moment.

"Faranth's eyes but you all're a literal lot," and Joslyn attempts to get back into the robe-sewing, drawing a /deep/ breath and bending her head to the task. "Cathy don't beat on no one... I hope."

Cathal smiles a little, "Sorry, I just don't think that's a joking matter."

Shadara chuckles again, 'Nah, I don't think he does, if he did, he might get a lifemate that likes to push him around."

Cathal says "If I did, I wouldn't deserve to IMpress."

"Fitting," comments Nevanian, hurriedly adding, "Looks like this should, that is, be fitting. Tall enough, but not trippable."

Joslyn, only too eager to have an excuse not to be sewing, patpats Cathal's head, a very there-there dear gesture. "We all know you don't beat on people, Cathy. An'I won't joke about it no more." Then looks over at Nevanian and his finished robe - back at her own unfinished mess of cloth - down at Cathal's and Ana's tidy work. /Sigh/.

Onshana smiles a bit and nods. "That's good. Father always said a man has no honor if he hits a woman." She falls silent again and works on the ever growing line of stitches.

Rousing from his sewing-induced stupor, completely oblivious to all conversation of the last bit of a while, Edlar looks up to ask, "Huh?" Hey, at least the seams of his robe are done... if badly.

Ana bites off another thread and pokes her needle securely in the hem of the tunic she's wearing. She holds up the robe, shaking it out and turning it, studying it from each angle. A little frown appears briefly, but she seems content with the neat patch-up job she's done.

Nevanian isn't quite finished, but apparently the conversation is making him a bit edgy as, instead of returning to his seat after checking the robe's length, he discreetly makes his way out.

Nevanian strides over to the Landing Field.

"Huh?" repeats Joslyn, grinning over at confused Edlar and bending her elbows atop the folds of her robe, palms turned up to balance her chin. "We were just discussin' you, Ed. You just keep workin' there an'let us finish our conversation, huh?"

Onshana continues adding stitch after stitch... One after the other very slowly.

Gulp. He's so gullile sometimes. "Discussing me?" Grunt. Grumble. He peers thoughtfully at his robe a moment, trying to figure out just how to do one of these hem things.

A syrupy smile is summoned for poor Edlar as Joslyn feigns interest in the seam she's by no means even close to being finished with. "Don't worry, Ed. It wasn't anything /too/ bad," is her idle fib.

Cathal chuckles softly.

Edlar just grunts again. He has more important things to worry about, after all. Slowly, he fingers at the cloth, folding it this way and that. Occasionally he looks up helplessly, as if he might find some clue in the faces around him.

Ana catches Edlar's eye as she's folding up her finished tunic "Need any help?" she offers.

Onshana pricks her finger again and this ime she drops what she is doing to stick the finger in her mouth.

Cathal leans back, sipping his juice, and peering at Joslyn's robe with a bemused expression.

Ah hah! Edlar is nothing if not grateful, favoring Ana with a fairly beaming smile. he holds up his half-finished robe, asking, "Please?"

You say "I need help." It's more of a sulk than a statement, followed up by a tragic little sigh and an impatient stab of needle into fabric. Despite the fact that she's already announced as much, she leans back, folds her arms over her chest, and declares that "This is hard."

Ana returns the smile, setting aside the neatly folded robe. She moves to the seat next to Edlar, asking softly "Ever sew before? Or mended?"

Cathal smiles a bit, "Just take it slow, Joslyn. You don't, also, need to finish it all tonight."

Shaking his head, Edlar is much like a young child who's mother has just come to his aid upon the scraping of his knee. Cute pout. Cute pout. He offers the robe up, saying, "I have no idea what to do next." The side seams are done, but the hemds are yet to be finished.

Onshana sighs softly to herself and gathers up her stuff. She gets to her feet and makes her way out with a quick goodbye.

Onshana walks toward the Landing Field.

Cathal says "Seeya..."

Ana leans closer, pointing at the hem "Hems are about the easiest to do...I'd suggest a slipstitch....they're very simple to learn and are the fastest to do"

If Joslyn doesn't finish it tonight, the odds increase tenfold in favor of her never finishing it at all. "I know," and unfolds one arm to idly flip the hemn she hasn't even begun yet, a toss of her head as farewell to Onshana.

Cathal chuckles, "Just slow down, focus on getting each stich done. Don't worry about the ones following. One at a time.

"A... slipstitch?" Edlar asks cluelessly, too absorbed in this sewing thing to notice Onshana's departure.

Ana nods "Here" she says, holding out her hands for the tunic. "I'll show you"

You say "D'you have any idea how /boring/ that sounds?" Rather than focussing her attentions on the unsewn task at hand, she takes to rolling the thread across the table and attempting to pull it back without letting it fall off the edge. "'Cause it sounds pretty boring t'me."

Cathal says "Noone said it wasn't. But boring is irrelevant, it needs doing."

Another heavy sigh falls as Joslyn manages to get the spool successfully back to her own half of the tabletop. "I /know/ it's gotta be done. But you oughta know that I can still complain about it steadily for a good coupla candlemarks."

Edlar nudges lightly at Ana with his voice, "Ana?"

Ana smiles, holding out her hands for the tunic "Uh huh...very simple...trust me. Here...I'll show you"

Edlar gives up the fabric without much need for persuasion, watching with hands clasped between his knees.

Shadara hmmms and looks up from her wine, 'A what stitch?"

Ana answers Shadara "Slipstitch" then directs her attention to Edlar "First, you need the hem. What I do is fold the fabric up, like this..." she says, demonstrating it on a table "I suggest doing this on a hard surface when you're first starting." She folds up about an inch of fabric for the hem, running her finger firmly over the fold "Do this to crease the fabric"

Edlar pantomimes the instructions with empty hands, while mouthing them to himself. Nodding, he murmurs, "Go on," once he thinks he's gotten it.

Joslyn should probably be paying attention to Ana's sewing lessons, but she's a bit busy playing with the makeshift toy of thread and spool. Just when it reaches the edge, a deft tug sends it bouncerolling back toward the girl, almost into her lap before she repeats the game. More fun than sewing, anyway.

Ana does this only to a small section of the hem, leaving the rest to Edlar. "When you get this folded, you need to fold it in on itself" she says, her hands doing this. The edge of the fabric is tucked into the fold, leaving a half-inch fold of fabric for the hem.

Edlar just stares at this for a moment, blinking. Slowly, as if scared, he reaches for the fabric, drawing it closer.

Cathal chuckles softly, lost in thought.

Ana nods, smiling her encouragement. "Try it...and once you get this fold, poke a pin in it to hold it until you can sew it" She tacks her folded part with a pin, before it's pulled a little away from her. She watches Edlar's attempt carefully.

Leaning over the edge of the tale, Edlar carefully the instructions laid out, but can't seem to get the hem even.

Boredom sets in fully and Joslyn finds herself a scrap of white to start cutting into smaller and smaller pieces, getting it down so little that it can be snipped no further before piling the fragments on the table before her. Picking them up with the ends of her fingers, she lets the flutter over the tabletop, giggling at the effect. "S'a snowstorm," she tells herself, hunting up another piece so she can create a mock blizzard.

Ana grins "That's pretty good for a first attempt" she says encouragingly. "My first hem was /awful/" she says. She leans over again, her hands hovering above Edlar's a little awkwardly. "See...fold this first..." she says, helping his hands do the fold. "Then crease...then fold again"

Cathal raises a brow, "Oh, cute."

Edlar's eyes flit up towards Cathal, narrowing slightly. He's not cute. He draws away his hands, clearing his throat, and mutters, "I can manage."

Cathal, eyes in the direction of Joslyn's snowstorm, misses Edlar's look.

Ana's eyebrows raise as she draws back "I'm sorry" she mutters, her face flushing. She busies herself with threading a needle for Edlar to use.

His mistake making it even worse, Edlar clears his throat again. "No.. thank you for the help. I appreciate it."

Ana just shrugs, her eyes still on the needle in her hand, concentrating on the knot she's tying in the thread "No need to thank me" she says softly.

Ana clears her throat and leans forward again, picking up the part of the fabric with her folded hem. She holds it close enough for Edlar to see...but not too close. "Umm..." she starts, her shyness reasserting itself. "You put the needle in at the top of this fold" she says, pushing the needle in "And slip it down the inside of the fold about a quarter inch." Her hands perform the action, pulling the thread through "Then you 'tack' it" The needle pushes through all of the fabric. When finished, you only see the tiniest stitch on the outside of the robe.

Brow furrowing, Edlar tries hard to get that, but asks, "Can you show me that again? More slowly?"

Ana nods, repeating the stitch slowly a few times down that folded section. "Just into the fold...out of the fold...tack..." she repeats each time she does the stitch.

Having created quite a little landscape - a forest of pins, a spool for a mountain, a snowy hillside of gathered fabric - Joslyn flutters an entire handfull of downy snippets, settling her chin on the edge of the table to be on the level with her miniature terrain.

Cathal says "Cute, Joslyn. Now all you need is a snow-dragon."

Edlar's eyes flit towards Joslyn's creation, and he blinks rapidly. "Uhm..." That's as good a response as can eb found.

Joslyn employs the mandatory response of the otherwise enraptured: "Hmmmmm?" Pinches of fabric fluffy snow drift over the tableaux, only a fleeting glance up at her fellows. "It's winter," she explains, grinning at her creation. "See?"

"Uhmm..." Edlar repeats. Finally, he finds it easier simply to nod and smile, then return to his hemming with renewed concentration.

Cathal says "I see. You are so WEIRD."

Shadara chuckles and grins a bit, "That's pretty close Josy." she says, as she's getting a bit more than tipsy from the wine she's drinking.

Joslyn gets down to the end of her snowfall, picking the last from her palm and letting it flutter down over the scene. "You're just jealous," is her dismissive comment Cathal's way, a much more agreeable tone as she looks over at the greenrider. "I think so," and wipes the lint from her fingers.

Shadara chuckles, "I grw up mostly in the North, that's fairly close to it."

Cathal chuckles and stands, "I'm off to sleep." He pickes up his sewing gear.

Ana looks over "G'night, Cathal" she calls out.

"Mmm, Bitran I am," as Joslyn leans her chin on her palm, looking down at the fabric-covered sewing utensils. "S'white. Looks like winter t'me," she states with a firm nod, blowing gently across the fabric for an imaginary breeze. "G'night, doll. Sweet dreams."

Edlar glances up to bid Cathal farewell, then realizes this means he is all alone with the weird womenfolk. This is not a good position you see. Rising, he quickly collects his things, thanking Ana for her help hurriedly.

Ana sits back, watching Edlar with an amazed expression, at his haste. She replies faintly to his thanks.

Cathal walks toward the Landing Field.

Edlar makes his way out, trying not to appear to be in too much of a hurry.

Edlar strides over to the Landing Field.

Watching folks scurry out with upturned eyes, Joslyn manages to blow all of the scraps into one piled 'drift' at the edge of her little forest. "I ain't never seen a boy that scared o'girls," she remarks in the process of cleaning up the table before her.