Archive Duty (Group I, August) (Open)

[kysseh]

Being stuck in the archives was probably not a chore rotation that many weyrlings or candidates particularly enjoyed, but being an avid reader as she was, Savitri found herself delighted with this new turn of events. Boat duty had not been terrible, but it had been difficult with one bad arm and lots of injuries. Bagging firestone was... irritating and dull at best. But reading and writing were two well-favored hobbies of hers, so she was quite content to sit herself in the archives and painstakingly copy over fading records. Since Hepaticath was sleeping off a bath and large meal, she was certain she could comfortably keep herself busy here for awhile, and that was hardly something to protest.

She dipped her pen in ink and began the neat copying of another line. Her handwriting was even, precise, legible... the nearest to personal satisfaction that she could manage. It lacked the extra flowery curves that some liked to add to their letters and was instead a visible representation of Savitri's preference toward efficiency and practicality. She had found a large stack of healing records that needed to be transcribed and had breezed through the first. The second was more challenging, simply because it included a lot of very long and intricate names. Shards... and she'd thought her own name was a mouthful!

One of the scribblings had her squinting and leaning in a little closer in an attempt to read it better. Honestly, did most other healers have this terrible of writing, or were the archivists here just that horrible? In the end, she managed to copy it letter by letter until it formed a name as a whole, and even then, she could not figure out how to pronounce it. Lovely names people had, no? She shrugged it off and kept on writing, ignoring it when a few strands of her hair fell to brush against her face at her cheekbones. She had tied the mess back, but it kept escaping. That would have to be tended to later, and she just returned to copying in silence, paying very little attention to what was going on around her.

[Ruby]

Archives. Well that didn't sound so bad. Of course, none of his chores had been really bad so far- with the possible exception of refilling glows. That had been pretty dreadful. But there was usually someone to talk to, and As'lin had never minded hard work, having once been convinced that he'd be a stablehand (shards, pretty much anything was better than shoveling poop). The only thing he didn't like was the extended seperations from Stillith. Good thing the blue was sleeping now, if fitfully- As'lin didn't think he could last at something as repetative as copying if Stillith was in his head the whole time.

He pushed open the door and had to choke back a cough. The archives were certainly dusty, but he wasn't that surprised. It wasn't like people often needed to know what dragon flew where during what ancient threadfall. As he picked up a stack of old records from where the Archivist indicated he should, he saw the reason for the extra dust in the air- a few younger people, candidates or drudges, were dusting shelves far in the back. Probably the ones that couldn't read or write, he figured. Lucky his dad had been a harper, and insisted that his boy had a decent hand. Too bad As'lin's was never clear enough for him to become an archivist or scribe or something.

Stacking a quill and inkpot on top of the records, he turned, looking for somewhere to sit. Spotting Savitri made him smile- it was nice to have her in his chore group. He wasn't sure who else was, to be completely honest; it seemed he spent most of his chore time with Savitri, which was fine by him. Seating himself across from her, he spread out his top record, a blank sheet, and the ink and quill, then leaned across slightly and said "Hey, Savitri. Whatcha copying?" This, however, earned him a glare of death from one of the archivists. Lowering his voice to a whisper, he amended, "Oops. Too loud, I suppose." The woman still looked at him quite balefully, but As'lin ignored her, starting in on his record. He wasn't disturbing anyone but Savitri, right?

[kysseh]

Engrossed as she was in copying down the list of useful Southern plants growing in the general area of Selenitas Weyr, she failed to notice that anyone else was nearby. People had been in and out, doing things, making noise, making no noise enough that she was practiced at ignoring it all in favor of her task. She was going to dip her pen in the ink again when a large source of movement passed into her field of vision, and she fervently hoped that whomever it was was not going to bother her. No such luck, apparently, for the person plopped itself down in the opposite chair and settled in to work. There were plenty of open chairs, weren't there? She was attempting to-

Her eyebrows raised, and she tilted her chin up to look at the blueweyrling across from her, arching an eyebrow at his enthusiasm. Apparently, not everyone appreciated his exuberance, though, and she barely hid a smile when he dropped his voice to a mere whisper. "Just a little," she commented quietly, her voice just barely above a murmur. He did not seem like the temperament to enjoy archive duty, but he did seem the sort to enjoy work with company. She contained a sigh, if only just. The weyrling was hardly in the frame of mind to be good company right now, being a bit put out with people in general and men in specific.

Then again... As'lin hardly qualified as a 'man' by Savitri's strict standards, so she forced herself to not be quite as blunt as usual. "Lists of useful herbs growing nearby. Like.. castor." She bent her head to copy a few more lines before realizing that that was hardly going to suffice for conversation. Shardit. She hated having to force conversation, but after getting in the middle of a knife fight, having to deal with a tagalong little brother, being stressed about the slow progress of lessons and the constant needs of Hepaticath, she was not quite her usual self. "I was unaware of the fact that castor oil is a mild contraceptive," she said casually, quietly, though that was more a thought spoken aloud than a real attempt at conversation. Oh... could that be considered an offensive topic? Humph... oh well.