[PRP] Meeting #1 of the Scarred Necks Club [Falienn/Phryana]

[ShinosBee]

So he was a candidate again. Falienn flicked at the cords hung from his shoulder with...at least not contempt this time. Contemplation? It was hard to say. At the moment he was more fixated on the fact that the cords refused to hang straight, insisting on twisting a bit. Probably, really, it was his scarf that turned them, dragging over the little ropes as he moved and looked about in the course of the day.

He'd considered trying to remove the scarves, but honestly every time he did, to bathe or to change, it was...he hated it. The vicious, savage, knotted and gnarled flesh across the whole front of his neck staring back at him in his reflection in the looking glass or the bath water. It really was a miracle he'd not lost his head entirely, gone like that one fellow, whats-his-name, H-something, from Western. Maybe one day he'd be proud of the marks, of the fact that he'd survived. He didn't feel like a triumphant victor though. He'd gotten lucky, and the green (That Green) had simply moved on of her own accord, and nothing to do with him.

But he'd already spent too much time letting the memory of that green b***h dominate his thoughts. He'd decided to do the thing, and shard and stuff it if he wasn't going to give it his best now that he'd decided. It might be a bit of a last stand—his voice still refused to smooth, and the healers had cautioned him against getting so much as the sniffles lest he lose the use of it entirely—mute candidates did not typically end up riders after all, but at this point backing out would mark him a coward. And he wasn't that, certainly.

He tugged at the knots again, sighing to himself. They'd twisted. Maybe a shorter scarf? That was how he'd ended up standing before his cot in the barracks, door into the main common area wide open, hands on his hips and staring down a lineup of some ten and twenty scarves. If this one was going to make him look a mess (even if the color did wonderfully match his eyes!) then he'd simply have to find another one. A shorter one, but one still wide enough to hide the vicious scars. He yanked the offending length of sheer cloth from his neck, sliding it through one palm over and over as he debated. Really, he was going to need to build an entirely new wardrobe to accommodate the need for this certain accessory, wasn't he?

Tsunake

 

[Tsunake]

For so many young men and women, this was the opportunity of a lifetime. For her? It ensured another Turn or two of survival, so long as she played her cards right. The prospect of a dragon did not interest her in the slightest. In truth, she still did not believe that she had truly been Searched, so much as it had been pity from the dragonrider towards her pitiful situation. That was fine. Phryana was in no position to scorn any help, and would graciously play the part of the doe-eyed, damaged woman that most saw her to be.

That did mean that she could not play aloof, even if she had little desire to bond with her new fellows.

It was one of the reasons that she approached the young man standing in front of his cot, her eyes taking in the situation. Scarves--and a side-long look at his profile told her everything she needed to know. He wished to hide his imperfections. That, she could relate to. Had she not been so marred herself, she would have never lost everything... but she had, and no one needed her for her looks now. The other reason was simple; he was the son of a bronzerider. Phryana had carefully been collecting information, deciding who would help further her in establishing a foothold when it came to remaining at High Reaches. K'ienn was a bronzerider of... questionable value, but there was no doubt that he was a prominent figure. Someone worth knowing, at least.

"I do not mean to intrude," Phryana spoke softly, both not to startle him, and to not draw attention to the hoarse quality of her voice whenever she spoke too loudly. "But if you are looking for suggestions..." She gestured to one scarf in particular--a striking blood red. "It will bring out the warmth of your skin tone and flatter your dark hair.

She knew a thing or two about fashion, after all. One naturally grew accustomed to it, when trying to please customers paying for her time.

ShinosBee

 

[ShinosBee]

A thrill of almost fearful irritation sang up his spine as someone called out to him from beside and behind. He'd been working at not becoming instantly furious at being spotted with his scars on show...but it took a moment to calm himself. The person (woman) was offering advice, and as he pivoted to regard her, he decided the advice wasn't so terrible. the red one was fetching, and it'd cost a pretty mark...it would be worth flaunting, but... It'd just been so long since he tried to be eye-catching. His scars, sickness, lack of focus had made him want to retreat into the shadows and remain out of the center of attention.

Putting that scarf on would be a step back into the focal point, really. A hint of the old Falienn shining through the scuffed up version he was now. Was he...ready for that?

The woman looked like she'd seen better days too. Another new candidate? Must be, to be here. He'd been so caught up in his own drama of late, there were so many new faces around that he didn't know on sight. Still, she seemed harmless. Older than him, maybe, but something in her baring spoke of practice, knowledge about such things as what scarf went better with a person's body and style. He really did look good in the red.

"Alright then," His voice too was low. Slightly rough, if he raised it at all or for long, then it'd go to gravel in no time. "It IS a nice scarf." A long pause as he glanced her up and down. "...Care for one?" He had no trouble being a trendsetter. It would be more of the old him, really, to do something like that. His hand waved over the pile of strips of fabric. "I've plenty, of course, and only one neck."

Tsunake