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 Posted: Sat Jul 14, 2018 8:28 pm
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Posted: Sat Jul 14, 2018 8:50 pm
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Willim liked women. A LOT. He also, he was finding, liked life in the Weyr, and for more than just the different attitudes of the people (especially the ladies) who lived there. He had arrived during a gold flight, which was followed by a second gold flight, and he allowed his thoughts to drift to the wild encounters he'd had as a result before returning to the issue at hand, and why he felt a little confused. The Weyr was bustling with activity preparing for not one, but two clutches of eggs, and the Candidates, being the lowest of the low within the hierarchy of things at High Reaches, were tasked with much of the grunt work. Today that meant moving crates of something from one side of the Weyr to the other. Not that Willim minded manual labor; he rather enjoyed it. But that wasn't what was confusing him on this hot, muggy day.
What was confusing him was Fisher.
Lifting another crate off the stack, he made an effort to catch up to the tall girl. Fisher wasn't a typical girl, that was for sure, and that intrigued him, from a curiosity perspective. Differently than how that one girl, Shanley, intrigued him; he was still uncertain if she liked him or not. But that was a pondering for another time..
Willim hefted the crate and quickened his pace to catch up with Fisher. Reaching her side, he grinned and nodded in greeting. "Nice workout, isn't it?"
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Posted: Thu Jul 19, 2018 2:46 pm
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Short, succinct answer. Of course, this had Willim's curiosity even more piqued. Did Fisher grow up on a boat, or did she get hired on due to her size and strength? What kind of boat, how big? Was Fisher a name or a job description? (He suspected both.) Questions swirled through his mind. He decided it would be rude to press for further information; if she wanted to provide it, he figured she would, when the time was right. And if she chose not to, well, that was her business, not his.
"A boat? That's really interesting," was all he said, leaving it up to her to provide additional detail. He'd seen her shift her crate to cradle it in one arm while picking up a second, pausing in his own progress to politely wait for her (and once more marvelling at her strength). Seeing another crate abandoned on the ground, he stopped next to it, shifted his own crate to balance on his shoulder, and hefted the second in his now-free hand. He wasn't trying to show off to her, at least not consciously; he just wanted to get the job done. Besides, these crates were no worse than the beer and wine he lugged about as a barback.
Taking a deep breath, he started off again, matching his pace to hers. "A boat," he repeated. "I've never been on a boat. Or on the sea at all, really. I think I've been to the ocean once, when I was little -- I don't remember." He chuckled and adjusted the load on his shoulder. "Hot today, isn't it? Phew."
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Posted: Thu Jul 19, 2018 3:46 pm
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"Are you talkin' because you don't like silence, or are you talkin' because you want a conversation with me?" Fisher raised an eyebrow as she turned to look at him, wondering just why he was so intent on babbling. Sure she was used to heavy talkers, most of her dads were chatterboxes after all, but why? On the seas they sang while working and even then they were songs used to teach how to work the boat; now she whistled to herself to keep that spirit going. But talking?? What did he want her to say?
"Whatever. Anyway yea, a boat. I was raised on a boat, my dads found me out at sea when a giant shipfish raised me up on a water spout." She knew that wasn't the truth but it was a fun story none the less. Which dad had decided to make that the actual history behind them discovering her was unknown but it'd only gotten stranger and more elaborate with each passing turn. "Apparently when they reached for me a vision of Faranth appeared in the sky, and a bunch of fish started to jump on to the deck." There were chapters of this story, so many chapters and this candidate boy had better be thankful he was getting the abridged version. "After that they noticed I was actually covered in scales and so they threw me back into the water, after which the fish jumped off the boat and cursed my dads to forever starve unless they adopted me."
Fisher shifted the crates, wondering if she could manage two in a single arm. Weight-wise she probably could, but the boxes were bulky and awkward which didn't make for easy carrying. There were a few smaller crates back at the beginning, if she wanted to give herself a personal challenge of out -carrying every single person here.
tatterpixie i hope you come to hate fisher
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Posted: Thu Jul 19, 2018 5:18 pm
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Taken aback by Fisher's brusque, flat response, Willim could only just stare at her, mouth hanging open. What was with that fardling story she told him? Shipfish and scales and fish jumping on the deck… A Harper's tale! What did she think he was, some kind of dimglow? He could feel his regrettably hair-trigger temper rising, could feel the pressure in his chest as the adrenaline from carrying the crates pumped through his body. Under any other circumstance, he would have dropped the crates and thrown a punch or butted heads and gotten into a cathartic knock-down drag-out fight. Under any other circumstance.
But this wasn't any other circumstance. He was a Candidate, eventually expected to (hopefully) become a dragonrider. Dragonmen didn't lose their tempers over seemingly sarcastic remarks made at them. That was one of the first things out of Candidatemaster Gr'del's mouth: mind your moods, because they would affect your dragon.
Besides, she was a girl. Despite her size and strength, she was female, and he had made it a point his entire life to never ever hit a girl.
So he snapped his mouth shut and took a deep breath to calm down. "I was just trying to make conversation," he finally said, looking up at her, his expression still a bit angry. "You know, be friendly and such. We're all in this together, we're all Candidates, and if we can't get along with our fellows, that's going to cause problems later when we Impress and are assigned into fighting wings." He shifted the crate on his shoulder and swung the other crate he was carrying. He didn't want to be mad at her! He wanted to be friends!
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Posted: Thu Jul 19, 2018 5:30 pm
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Fisher looked over and raised both of her eyebrows at the sudden change in his mood. "The shards you gettin' uppity for? I was just tellin' you the story my dads used to tell me all the time 'bout how they found me." She really had no reason to understand his complex emotions, nor did she really care. He wasn't her friend or her boss, so his opinion and actions reflected very little on her. Unless he tried to hurt her of course, in which case she'd happily kick him around like the landchild he was. "It sounds a lot better than sayin' they found me abandoned, wrapped in a net on some dock. I was naked and covered in sores, not to mention so thin they could count my ribs. Such an awesome conversation piece for when you first meet someone, yea?" Fisher honestly liked the fanciful story so much better.
She watched how he swung the crate and rolled her eyes, wondering just why he was acting so sensitive over an innocent story. This is why people on land were weird, or maybe Fisher was the weird one for not understanding all the apparently subtle manners and what not they had. How was she to know most everyone here had such thin skin? "'sides, you keep swinging that crate like that and you're gonna pop your shoulder out. No need to vent yourself on some objects just 'cause you got your feelings pinched, I meant no harm and you're workin' yourself up over nothin'."
Honestly though if he kept carrying on like this, like some.....baby, she'd just march on ahead and leave him to his solo sulking. There was no part of this self-induced pity party that she wanted to be audience to.
tatterpixie will u baby - says fisher
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Posted: Thu Jul 19, 2018 6:24 pm
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The color rose on Willim's cheeks as he realized what a wherry-faced a** he was being. "Shards, I'm sorry, Fisher. I just -- I guess I -- I didn't mean to get mad or anything, honest. I thought you were telling tales just to get under my skin. I'm sorry." Lowering his head, he shrugged his shoulders. "I kinda get mad easily. I've gotten in a lot of fights 'cause I misunderstand things, I guess, and just… lose it. I gotta get that under control if I want to be a dragonrider, huh?" He looked up at her again, a newfound respect and admiration for the girl given her rough start in life.
He stopped swinging the crate at her remark about popping his shoulder out. "Oh, yeah huh, you're right. Don't want to do that. Then I'd be useless like those other Candidates." Keeping pace with her, he trudged along in silence for a few. "I'm glad I didn't try to get in a fight with you. You would have mopped the floor with me," he finally said with a wry grin. "You got some muscles on you."
houllow aw yeah, that crow pie tastes so good XD
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Posted: Thu Jul 19, 2018 6:35 pm
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Posted: Sat Jul 21, 2018 3:49 pm
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As chastened as he was by Fisher's admonition of his temper flareup and her remarks about being free labor (which he had to admit was true, given that Candidates were just about the lowest of the low in High Reaches' hierarchy), Willim perked up at her praise of his physique. It could have been just a polite response to his praise of her muscles, but given how blunt the girl was, he figured it was sincerely meant. "Thanks," he grinned in reply, pushing his shoulders back and his chest out just a little. "A barback kinda does the bartender's grunt work in a pub. Stocking bottles, cleaning up the bar, like that. Lifting a lot of crates of full wine and beer bottles and carrying 'em up from the cellar. That's why this is kinda easy for me. I'm used to physical work like this."
He eyed her powerful build as they approached the drop location for their loads. As relatively "easy" as this task was for him, nevertheless he'd be glad to set the crates down and wipe the sweat from his face. "So it's gotta be a lot of work, living on a boat, right? Lots of heavy lifting and pulling." Setting his burden down carefully in case it was breakable, he pulled his shirt off over his head and tied it around his hips after mopping his brow with it. He didn't care who looked -- it was hot out!
houllow LET THE FLEX OFF BEGIN o/
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Posted: Sun Jul 22, 2018 6:09 pm
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Why was he taking off his shirt? If he thought it needed to come off because it was too hot to wear one he needed to learn the true meaning of heat, or was he doing it because Fisher'd complimented his muscles? Honestly he was rather defined and it was impressive that being a barback or whatever could possibly turn someone into a capable individual. Still though, if he was hot and needed to have his shirt off perhaps it'd be in her best interest to remove hers as well; a sign of solidarity against these working conditions and what not.
With her own crates placed where they needed to go, Fisher paused and pulled her shirt over her head. Her breasts were bound against her torso, something she did almost every day since it made work easier, and her muscles practically glistened in the light. Also, remembering that it took two people to have a proper conversation, Fisher attempted to answer his questions as she dabbed at her own sweat. "I guess? I dunno, I was doin' it every day for most of my life so I don't really know how to classify the work other than normal. I liked it though since I got strong, which made it easy for me to sweep the arm-wrestlin' contests whenever we hit up ports."
With her shirt now off Fisher didn't really see a reason to put it back on, and so it was tucked into the back of her pants like an odd, puffy tail. The pair needed to get back and get more crates going. "Shall we get movin'? These crates ain't gonna carry themselves, and half these candidates ain't gonna carry them either." Modesty wasn't her thing so if seeing a topless woman suddenly became a problem for others, she also didn't care.
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Posted: Sun Jul 22, 2018 7:32 pm
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Willim almost cringed as Fisher pulled her shirt off, nearly turned away and shielded his eyes. He hadn't been at the Weyr very long, after all, and still wasn't quite used to Weyr ways. Where he was from, women didn't go around stripping their clothing off without thinking a thing of it. Not even if they were blind stinking drunk, as he had observed on many an occasion. Then he saw she had binding on, and it was almost okay. It was like a top, right? At least Fisher was covered.
Then he saw her muscles glistening under the blazing sun, and all concern for propriety and modesty fled his mind, replaced by a sense of awe and maybe a little… intimidation? Inadequacy? A need to show off maybe?
With a grin, Willim nodded, puffing up just a little bit. "Yeah, we should. Like you said, those crates aren't gonna carry themselves." He might not be as big as Fisher, but by Faranth he was going to show her he was as strong as she was! "So, arm-wrestling contests? I bet those were fun. Have you done much of that since coming to High Reaches?"
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