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DRAGONMOUNT

A WHEEL OF TIME COMMUNITY

Dream on ~Tirzah & Alwyn~


Lih-Lyh

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An insuppressibly prideful Ashley surveyed the latest addition to his garden, pride and glee that it was now his, along with mangy goats and bloody buttered onions. He was gloating, of course, about insults, a whole bally stone-carved notepad of them at his disposal, too. Several freedays of enhancing his vocabulary, and soon he'll be sledging like his verbose, witty companions. He had stumbled upon just the spot to do it, a rather obvious one, akin to his pride. The single greatest advantage to lounging near the entrance of the initiate barracks had to be soaking in the cultures, as there were future Gaidins and Gaidars that congregated from this world south of the Spine.

 

Not that he considered himself a Gaidin-to-be, certainly not a Gaidar, although there had been more doubts expressed concerning the former than the latter, as if eating vegetables could somehow emasculate him. He presumed the consideration was mutual, as far as he knew he was poor at handling any object with a point, not just the material sort either. Still, so many vibrant personalities in the Yard, and he exalted in this life energy behind the colourful expressions of these personalities. In his askew loopy script Ashley carefully denoted wool-headed grunter, and giggled to himself . . . was that not thrilling?

 

This zesty taunt the top-knotted Tarec had said at breakfast when he slipped on somebody's spilt milk. Someday a Sister from the Tower might wizen up to what was going on and cover the cantine with sawdust so the currently accident-prone floor would befit its low establishment, or rather, the various reactions to the fast and greasy fare. In the meantime the lad gathered for his collection, nurturing the phrases he knew was full of win. Who knows, maybe one day he might actually sling the mud back.

 

And if he had also happened to overhear the latest gossip as an aside, well what of that? Let the eavesdroppers cackle, sizzle with all their juicy morsels! Men cared about what went on just as much as women, if not more as they did not care to show their interest. Beaming, he listened from his notepad, only looking enough around peripheral vision so to discern a young woman with the bold walk. The lass had not been dressed of his order, but maybe it was an Accepted who approached, and some of them trained with the Warders. Plenty of these women displayed a confounding lack of direction, to which the mischievous trainee might amplify, had it not been for their teachers.  ‘Rome had given some instructions toward not staring at them, and the lad did his absolute best to be furtive until he could catch her gaze.

 

"Nerome Gaidin is away at the moment." Hastily, to explain his presence here in the middle of the day, before assuming the mild, friendly manner that confronted many a wandering banded delight, "Can I help you?"

 

Tilting eyes accented by Saldaean heritage kept their focus steady, but as she explained he blinked in confusion. "I’m afraid not, Tirzah; he already has a roommate, Alwyn, perhaps you know Ashley’s teacher, Nerome Seshir?" This query was politely dubious, but worth a try. Pretty as her name was, unless she possessed a catchphrase to spice up the conversation he wanted her gone. Some trainee probably played her for a goat-kissing fool. Soon she would go to sort out her living arrangements, and he’d be able to get on with memorising his worldly infatuations. 

 

The Saldaean explained some more, and all of a sudden Ashley was glad he didn’t reveal his identity. Grey eyes sharpened into a gleam, one that relished the chance of finally justifying what expelled, which was “sheep swallop,” followed by, “but, you’re a girl!” Later he assessed this had may-haps placed the wrong foot down in the books of his newest roommate Tirzah, in that a lad could do worse while teetering -- when the other foot that followed crushes him inevitably -- than exercise sense by acquiring an iota of prudence alongside flashy interjections.

 

OOC: Late, late, late as usual; somehow school papers daunted me into generating RP. Luckily I have such patient roommates!

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Disguises were useful things. Tirzah, who found it necessary to drape herself in a variety of such façades since years well before she was sauntering through the Yards, fully appreciated their existence. Why, she had meandered her way out of a large number of scuffles pretending to be the gallant protector of Lucrecia. Somehow, lashes that seemed nothing more than average on a female tended to slap all sorts of magic together when they fluttered nervously, conveniently used by the all too wide-eyed, sensitive youth. Especially when used on certain Banded Delights, who Tirzah reckoned knew romance no better than she knew knitting. And you certainly didn’t need a second glance at Tirzah to guess the range of her talents in that particular field.

 

Even as she acknowledged familiar sights, vivid images sprung to life in her mind, usually no more than fleeting memories of some moment, some incident that had taken place between that tree, or there, just past that corner to the left. She went about asking the whereabouts of her soon to be roommate with all the vigour that was that expected of her, but as more thoughts collected, she sensed the approach of that final scene and rife as it was with humiliation and anxiety, Tirzah grinned- these things were the past now.

 

The ability to walk as Tirzah Behen and no other as she neared her destination, was refreshing. She gave a flash of warning to an idle Trainee as he made to approach her, deciding when she noticed the capable cringe that he withdrew with that she had found the ideal candidate for, “Congratulations! You just won ‘Let’s-Lead-Tirzah-to-Ashley.” Gripping his arm with all the manners that she was renowned for, Tirzah ignored the protests as she dragged him for a few seconds,(painful seconds-the lad was the kind she liked to note as ‘well fed’) and proceeded to recognise his acquiescence to take the lead with a wide smirk.

 

As it happened, he seemed to know the whereabouts of Ash the Dash well enough, so that a few pointed fingers later Tirzah found herself looking at yet another idle lad, who she realized was unusually odd, even in Tar Valon. It was not the looks no- he was as pretty as could be, with his dark hair and grey eyes dancing out at her as she approached him, the eyes particularly…alive, as they darted between the turf and…Tirzah herself? Did the lad not know it was rude to stare? Tirzah’s smirk widened. She had found Ashley. Or even more correctly, she had successfully bullied someone else to find him for her. Walking up to him briskly, Tirzah prepared her explanations. Quickly enough, they were having a conversation.

 

Disguises were useful things, unless they were looked through. She did not question the state of anonymity he had chosen- in fact, it even raised her respect for him by a slight inch as questions were passed to and fro. Only by the slightest inch though, as not so soon after they delved deeper into their vocabularies for the right words, Anonymous A began to blunder. Considering the situation though, Tirzah admitted that she would’ve done the same. Her sentences grew smaller in length as his increased and by the time the little scene reached its climax, Tirzah’s smirk had spread wide enough to compete with any feathery-friend’s wings.

 

“But, you’re a girl!”

 

The hot admonition, released –hopefully- without thinking made her insides bubble with laughter, but she pressed it inside. Instead she let her eyes grow large with concern and she leaned slightly closer to her roommate.

 

“Why Master Anon., do you think this would hinder Ashley in any way? Do tell me!

Light, I wish I had remembered my gender earlier, perhaps a moment earlier! Even a moment yes, precious seconds that could’ve saved him from this! I would not wish to be a burden to the ever striving Master Ashley….oh please don’t look like that, I will go back to my Mentor this instant…no, I don’t feel like sitting down, thank you very much, good sir. ”

 

Even as she said her last words, she settled down in a heap, wiping the non-existent sweat from her brow with fervency that might’ve been better used during the laps she knew Mac’s training would involve. After a few minutes of prolonged ranting, she took a deep breath in that she assumed Ashley would take as his chance at escape.

 

“Looks like I’m going to last around you just fine. Nice to meet you Ashley, I’m Tirzah. Now please, if you would be…” and she adopted her previous tone while saying her last words, “so kind as to show me to our room, good sir.”

 

Tirzah Behen

Ashley's Roomie

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  • 2 weeks later...

Gazing into the sun as if pleading the Creator for a length of rope, he wondered if he had ran would that have done him any good. Still it was no time to be snatching at the feet of religion now, not right before a battle. What the dunce happened to a stable life? To keeping a low profile? His chin would have stayed jutted out of defiance forever if she hadn't just mentioned what she did. It wobbled at the mention of his Mentor. In her nice, unassuming voice the hint represented Authority, the fist that would not be pleasant if she were to report his insubordination. A very disconcerted Ashley stared. Right into the benevolent smile of Miss Behen, she who had so devilishly kicked his head in.

 

Her quick retorts derived from some measure of wit and intelligence. She impressed upon him her delightful act, then it hit him. It was what his mind struggled to reconcile the idea of her being his roommate. She must be a lady, all of whom, in addition to good breeding were also equipped with a refined, but cruel set of expectations. Determined and disciplined, she was sure to be, and living with her would be as bad as courting a Sergeant Major.

 

Fancy the nerve! . . . A lady, one who mocked; who taunted. She looked good doing the mocking, taunting. Insignificent thoughts about her physical attractiveness sloshed mercilessly, blocking out constructive ideas on the matter of escape. May-haps he suffered sunstroke.

 

So what if she had long lashes? He had absurd long lashes too, flap, flap! Blinking several times at his companion, the ex-Tinker could not have been more stunned if the lady had taken a hammer to his skull. In rapid succession Tirzah, no, Miss Behen went from somebody he felt sorry for to an irritating busybody. And he wouldn't even dare claim he knew nobody named Ashley, not after she had correctly identified his person. She was well-informed, and that was dangerous. Why had he not been more circumspect? He suspected it would not offered him any protection. Often had he been revealed as a fool, it was only strange to have the revelation come from the stranger. 'Course, nobody really liked to be introduced to another as an idiot, even when they realised they were in the wrong.

 

"Very good, Miss." The words clashed with his I've broken teeth that was more fun expression, but facial tics weren't part of any replies to Sergeant Major. Besides, she had already turned her back on him, surveying the barracks as if eager to pounce. He rushed to show her the room, wanting to stall but practically running to catch up. Strides lengthened to match hers, forcing blood to ring in his ears, suffuse his cheeks, and darken his lips. The trainee boiled with apprehension that somebody should glimpsed the lady before he ushered her in, although it was really she who took charge. She probably had a good sense of direction, norm or no.

 

Grey eyes relaxed in the dimmer atmosphere of the room. It was a tidy one; he had cleaned up just the night before. There were two bunks for him and Alwyn, although she would have to take one of the top beds if she was to be their roommate. If they put up a curtain in a section of the room there should not be any issues with modesty. It really would have been simple if they housed her with other girls . . .

 

"Tirzah!"

 

Aha, Alwyn was here to relief him. Good, the other was better with the ladies anyway, being of a gentle birth himself. Some girls become like putty in that boy's hands, or hair. Let his roommate deal with the she-wolf while Ashley sulked expressively in the corner. The sensation of not being alone was a refreshing one, but he did not enjoy it for long. What was this, did that sleek, dark head just cast a glamour? Sergeant Major was surely anything but demurr.

 

He had been carving a staff, and now he carefully rearranged the wood shavings on the desk into a pile, to show how he wasn't at all interested in others' affairs. Well, maybe just a little. Something was amiss, and he secretly didn't like the hopeful spark in Alwyn's eyes. Speculatively he looked from the young Behen lady, at Alwyn, back and forth as if following a particularly intriguing round of Stones.

 

"You know each other, then?"

 

Ashley

Sensitive

 

Edit: Pushed us forward. Hope you didn't mind, Alwyn. Make me gawp! :D

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