Enter the Princess (Snowy and Nia?)

[4horseshowgirl4]

Dekistee, the newest Candidate, waltzed into the Barracks, carrying a light handbag, while a drudge behind her swore silently, struggling under several heavy bags, mostly containing clothing. The small blonde set her handbag on an unoccupied cot before striding over to the small mirror in the wall, frowning as she looked at herself. It had been a long journey here, even adragonback. Her face looked windbeaten and drawn, her lips were chapped, and her hair was falling out of its neat braid. She saw the drudge she'd hired to carry her stuff inside in the corner of the mirror, and waved him off. "Just leave my stuff there, I'll unpack it later," she said absently, fishing through her pocket and tossing it at him without even a thank you. She turned back to the mirror, studying herself. The drudge behind her opened his mouth, looking quite like he'd like to tell her that Candidates held a rank roughly equal to his own, and maybe adding in a few choice swear words, but he looked down at the numeric amount of the mark he'd been thrown, and shrugged his shoulders resignedly before leaving the room.

Dekistee, of course, did not say goodbye. People of his rank hardly deserved it. It took her quite a while to fix herself up, but no one entered the barracks. They were probably all at lunch or something. She undid her hair and combed it out before putting it back in the braid: she figured that until she learned the schedule around here, she would be better off assuming that there wouldn't be time to constantly fix her hair like she would need to if she let it loose. However, she spent quite a bit of time making herself up: she only wanted to make the best first impression, after all. Soon, her skin was flawless and a healthy soft bronze, her eyes stood out from a ring of liner, her lashes were artificially thickened, and her chapped lips were hidden by a luscious pink paste.

When she was properly prettified, she flounced outside, to the common area between the two halls, where she hoped to find a few possible friends. She was getting awfully lonesome; sociable, outgoing Dekistee couldn't go long without human interaction. The Dragonrider that had brought her here hadn't exactly been talkative, either, but that was no matter; from what very little she knew about dragons and the ranks of the different colors, Blackriders weren't particularly important. She wished she were a Weyrling already so she could know for sure which of her classmates would be socially acceptable and which would not, but, for now, she would just have to guess. That couldn't be too hard! After all, she'd always managed to figure out who the royalty of the different Holds at Gathers within a few seconds. It was probably the same type of thing.

"Hello?" she called out brightly upon reaching the hall. Dressed in her favorite casual outfit (though, unknown to her, one that would have passed for formal Gather wear for 95% of the Weyr) a pristine pale green dress that reached to her calves and a matching forest green jacket (it was still quite chilly, especially inside and out of the sun), Dekistee stuck out like a sore thumb. She thought she was a princess, so everyone else ought to know that. She could certainly afford to look like one. Besides, she might as well dress like their future Queenrider. She was too good to be anything but.

She checked the wall behind her for dirt before leaning daintily against it, toying coyly with her long braid while waiting for someone to show up. Oh, she hoped it would be someone good-looking and well-dressed! She needed to surround herself with people like that. While she was hardly expecting most of these Weyrbrats to have a Lady's manners, she hoped that there would be a few that at least had potential for sophistication. She could train them up if she had to. She was trying to be selfless; after all, she'd agreed to come here for the benefit of her family and to provide leadership to this drowsy little Weyr. She was already having to deal with subpar living arrangements!

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[snowfire]

Belor sat on his cot in the barracks, his hands stretched out in front of him. His once perfect, delicate hands were ruined by callouses that seemed to contradict the jeweled rings on his fingers. He was sick of the hard work he had to endure in the Weyr. Being a candidate was to be the lowest of the low. He was barely better than a drudge now. He just wanted to get this over with and Impress, so that he could be elevated to the status of dragonrider. Was this some kind of test of his mettle? If it was, he had better get a good dragon in return.

Sighing, he stood and smoothed his hands over his velvet tunic. There was no sense sulking around here, he supposed. He walked out into the hall...where he came face to face with a lady, a rarity around here.

Belor blinked slowly, wondering if he was imagining the elegant woman in a green dress. Maybe the hard work was getting to him more than he thought. When she didn't disappear, or turn into a wherry or some other creature, his heart leaped with joy.

"Hello!" He cried exuberantly, bounding over to her and giving her a small bow. "Are you a candidate? Let me welcome you to the Weyr. Although I don't know what kind of welcome it is--you're the only decent person I've seen in sevendays." With a chagrined smile, he held out his hand. "I'm Belor--and what should I call you, Lady..."

((This was better, but I lost it once and had to re-write it.))

[Nia]

Engrye, having finally found her room, was relaxing, enjoying the fact that she hadn't been assigned a roommate yet, due to the odd number of Candidates. The solitude was nice, though she was sure she'd get a roommate eventually, so Engrye was spending time her room, decorating it to look nice and cleaning up some of the other Candidates had left. She'd been cleaning a lot lately, perhaps it was just a skill being picked up from having to clean so much for chores. But after she'd fixed up her room, Engrye had collapsed on her cot, switching between watching people walk past her room and reading another record she'd borrowed.

Her own clothes today were some of her nicer ones, a flowy white skirt with a black jacket and a lavender bow that contrasted nicely with her bright red hair that was half tied up in her signature twin tails, leaving most of her hair down and giving her a bit of a childish look. Somewhat of a commotion outside got Engrye to look up from her record again, watching a girl, probably a Candidate, in a tacky looking dress. Tacky merely because it was just... tacky to wear such an elegant dress in the Candidate Barracks. However, some dimglow appeared to think otherwise and was treating her like the lady she so desperately wanted to be. Well, this certainly wouldn't do. Engrye put her record on her desk and stood up, walking out of her room.

Catching the tail end of Belor's comment towards Dekistee, Engrye decided to input her own thoughts. "A lady? A lady would have enough common sense to not wear such a tacky outfit in the Candidate Barracks, of all places. She is quite obviously a Candidate, just a mere Candidate trying to seem far more important than she really is," she said to Belor with her usual airy tone of voice, not even addressing the girl herself. Engrye really hated arrogance, which did make her a bit of a hypocrite, but that didn't really matter to her. What did matter was that this girl was unrightfully behaving like she was high-ranked, which she wasn't, and it made Engrye rather angry. But she didn't show how angry she was, she merely kept her eyes narrowed and her mouth dipped slightly into a frown.

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[4horseshowgirl4]

Thankfully, it didn't take long for someone to appear. Dekistee didn't have much patience or a very long attention span; she hadn't been willing to wait here for more than a minute or two before heading towards the dining hall. Perhaps she would have arrived in time to catch a handsome young Bronzerider finishing his lunch, or an Ironrider. Those were Kings, too, right? However, her plan B quickly proved unnecessary as someone bounded in. Dekistee only had to take one look at him to make her judgment. Oh, heck yes.

The very first person she was going to get to know at this Weyr looked like one of the young, successful hiers to the Lordship Dekistee would have been courting had she not been chosen to be her family's representation in the Weyr. It was her sister who was supposed to be the Queenrider, as she was more leaderly, and Dekistee who was supposed to marry into another Hold and form a political alliance, as she was prettier. Well, her sister had fallen in love with a perfectly acceptable man, so it fell to Dekistee to be the Weyr's next leader. That was fine with her. Dragonriders were sexier than most Lords.

Besides, another reason for coming to the Weyr was standing right in front of her. Shard it, she was good. He wasn't broad-shouldered and well-muscled like many of the Dragonriders, but, then again, he wasn't a Dragonrider. He was a Candidate like her, though it was clear from his fine apparel and finely-sculpted face that he had royal breeding, like she did. He was darn good-looking: perhaps not as masculine as one could hope, but he certainly handsome enough for picky Dekistee. It figured that she would attract a fine specimen like him before even calling Dalibor her home for a candlemark!

"Hello," Dekistee said in return, emphasizing the second half of the word and make it little secret that she thought he was good-looking and drawing one corner of her mouth into an impish, flirtatious smile. She gave him a small curtsy out of the good manners that had been drilled and drilled into her. "I'm Dekistee, of Fort Hold, and yes, I'm a Candidate," she said, shaking his hand with her limp, girly grip and holding onto it a moment longer than was strictly necessary. Those bejeweled hands were calloused. Dekistee was displeased by that: if they made someone like Belor work, would she have to, too? That wasn't going to go over well. "And I'm happy to say that my luck's better than yours-- I've met someone decent within a few minutes of being here!" she added, giggling a little foolishly.

She was actually very pleased with herself. She was already rubbing shoulders with their class's future Kingrider, she was sure. She just had a sense for these sorts of things. Belor was destined for great things, and those who were his close friends could benefit from his high station in life, not that Dekistee needed the help. If she didn't manage to Impress a Queen, she had a safe and secure future back at Fort Hold. She was certain it wouldn't take her long to find a husband and settle down at the head of a Hold if the impossible happened and she didn't become a Queenrider. Her mind was instantly flooded with happy thoughts of her and a great Golden Queen as the future Jr. Weyrwoman, pampered all day and courted by a string of handsome, yet-faceless Kingriders, Belor among them.

However, her fantasies were interrupted by the incredibly rude words of another arrival. Dekistee's eyes snapped onto her, blue eyes full of anger. Oh, so this was how this girl wanted it? Really? Well, it was on. Dekistee was going to be running this Weyr one day, and when she did, she was going to make this redhead's life hell. It wouldn't even take her to the Hatching to make Engrye miserable. Dekistee had headed the most attractive, desirable, and popular group of girls back at the Hold. She knew how to make someone feel excluded, like a loser. She was more than happy to show Engrye her stuff. She was cocky about that fact. She'd crush any of Engrye's hopes of Impressing, stomp them flat.

"Excuse me?" Dekistee said, stepping forward furiously, tossing her hair back over her shoulder. She had to look up to meet Engrye's eyes, but Dekistee's height (or lack thereof) didn't bother her. "And who do you think you are?" she demanded. "Wait, don't even answer. I know who you are. You're some nobody from nowhere. Listen, I'm sorry you're jealous, but if you tried being nice, I might agree to help you with you, uh..." Dekistee gave a disdainful glance at Engrye's outfit, "'fashion.'" She tossed her hair again. "And if you were a lady, which you're not, you would know that a lady always looks her best, but also has the sense not to wear white in a dirty place like this! But don't worry, if you stain it, you can always pay someone to clean it for you... oh, wait, you can't!" Dekistee smirked aggravatingly. "I'm sorry, would you like some ice for that burn?"

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