The Grey Tower

OOC: Hey everyone, jump in and have at it! Upper ranks, mind holding off for 30-60s to let us have our fun before pooping all over the party? Also, apologies in advance for crass language.

Flora would have given anything not to pass through the heavy oak doors that towered before her. However, the impatient huff from Accepted Irina required she eat whether or not the red-haired girl had any appetite. Dread roiled in her gut, so powerful Flora thought she might retch all over gleaming tile. Unfortunately, this would likely only land her in more trouble and Mirin Sedai would undoubtedly require she clean it up. Swallowing, the singer fought back pitiful waterworks that threatened weakened floodgates. Blood and ashes, she had already made a fool of herself once today, she would not do so again! Rubbing balled fists against red-rimmed eyes, Flora forced a trembling hand up towards dark wood and pushed.

Slipping into the dining hall as inconspicuously as possible, she kept beryl eyes trained to wooden floorboards as they passed swiftly beneath slippered feet. Weaving through white dresses and black coats, Flora slunk wretchedly towards steaming tureens. Spooning boiled potatoes and green beans onto her plate, the singer refused to meet anyone’s gaze despite being jostled by another Novice – subsequently slopping braised beef over white wool, the dark stain standing out plainly against pristinely snowy fabric. This latest tragedy threatened a new wave of tears and Flora dug ragged nails into her palms with the effort it took keeping them from spilling over pink cheeks.

Utterly dejected, the Andoran wended her way towards a solitary seat near the far wall. Settling herself onto a bench, she chanced a furtive peek at the group of Novices sitting nearest her yet regretted this almost immediately as recognition flared in the eyes of a plain-faced Tairen girl who had borne witness to the events of her last lesson. Green eyes quickly darted back her meal but could not shut out the sound of snide snickering. Shame burned her face crimson as the memory of frustrated sobbing burst through walls she had hastily constructed against the mortifying experience of an hour previous.

Light, it had been four months since arriving at the Grey Tower. It was a good day if she could even sense another woman channelling saidar, let alone actually touch the Source herself. After weeks of lessons with Illyria Sedai with few results, the Mistress of Novices had decided Flora should participate in other classes pertaining to the One Power, lest she fall too far behind other girls. Miserable as life in the Grey Tower had proved to that point, now the Pit of Doom seemed a more pleasant option. Lessons were exercises in self-loathing, her every attempt worse than the last: pathetic, inept, useless.

Hunched over the table, Flora picked listlessly at her potatoes. She willed herself to ignore the nattering Novices and their poorly whispered conversation; however, that quickly proved impossible.

“… and then the Light-blinded chit is bawling like a babe ripped from her mother’s teat. What a waste! Burn me! If I had her strength, Mirin might have called me through the Arches ages ago. Useless flaming Flora Cecil.”

“Like nipples on a breastplate! She is a waste of the white dress; they may well start handing out beds in the Novice Quarters to vagrants, they seem more likely to be Aes Sedai than she!”

Flora counted it no small victory that one solitary tear was all that slipped its familiar path down her cheek. Bending lower over lukewarm food, she prayed the other girls could not see how strongly their vicious words affected her – hoped fervently they could not see how her fists shook above white skirts, clenched with the tension of holding back shame and sadness. Light, how the singer wished she could simply be offended and angry. To be like Maria; to snap back with some cleverly savage retort and walk coolly away. Those voices, though, were merely an echo of thoughts that hissed their disgust from the depths of her own head.

So lost was the red-haired girl in her own suffering, that she was completely oblivious to her roommate’s arrival.

“Afternoon, my dear!” Maria’s voice, painfully chipper, sounded behind the singer who quickly scrubbed away evidence of her distress and turned an unconvincing smile toward the other woman.

“Hello,” she croaked in return.

There was no fooling the Altaran, however; swarthy features dropped and she sighed deeply, settling next to her friend with a heavily laden tray. “What happened?”

Flora turned away. “Nothing,” she muttered, shrugging defensively but a quick flick of green irises to the still-chattering group on their right betrayed the current source of her angst.

The other woman whipped around to face Flora’s bullies. As the singer realised what her friend was about to do, embarrassment flushed her face anew. “Please do not…”

Maria ignored her. “Would you like to repeat what you were saying about my friend here, Zerlina?” the Altaran announced loudly.

Dread tightened in Flora’s shoulders as she wished a way to escape this awkward situation; instead, the red-haired girl lurked just behind her friend’s shoulder, watching the scene play out.

Eyebrows raised, the plain-faced Tairen turned toward Maria who had earned something of a reputation for herself as being both mercurial and confrontational. The Novice smirked, “Oh look, Maria Gaidin riding to the rescue of her damsel in distress. Light, what has she got beneath her skirts that you left Elena’s bed? She has fewer brains than a bag of rocks, the personality of a tree, and looks like Mirin stuffed one of the Drin in a dress – or is that what you are after? I always figured you preferred two legs to three.”

Green eyes bulged in shock and the red-haired girl blushed crimson as her hair. Romantic relationships between those of the same gender were not unheard of outside the Grey Tower. Well-travelled as she was, Flora was familiar with a number of fellow troubadours who preferred their own sex and those who would take anyone to bed, male or female. Having been raised in taverns and inn common rooms, she had not been blind to the desperate souls peddling their bodies for money to survive – and it had not just been women. Time and again she would watch with horrified disgust, as men would lead starving young boys upstairs or to an alley.

Excepting the ultra-exploitive relationship between men and children, Flora had developed a sort of ambivalence toward same-sex coupling. Considered taboo in the general populace, it was rarely discussed openly and usually conducted in utmost secrecy. Since she herself had never been closely affected by any such relationship, the Andoran had never truly formed an opinion one way or the other. However, the singer had been surprised to discover how commonplace homosexuality was within Hama Valon. While relationships between Novices were not encouraged, they were frowned upon less than heteronormative couples considering there was no risk of unwanted pregnancy – this the administration would classify as “distracting”. In fact, it seemed half the Grey Tower’s Soldiers were more interested in each other than any Novice or female Drin.

Thus far, Flora had maintained her neutral stance on the issue: unaffected and unconcerned. However, she watched as Maria glanced guiltily over at an elegant Taraboner sitting uncomfortably across from loud-mouthed Zerlina who gleefully sensed the sticky tension between apparent ex-lovers. For the first time since Flora had known her friend, the woman rouged and seemed at a loss for words.

This reaction confirmed heretofore unknown information. The red-haired girl stared at Maria, suddenly intimately conscious of how her hip brushed against the other woman’s. Heat burned her cheeks, adding new colour to flush skin. She shifted away from the Altaran reflexively, an action all-too-obvious to watchful eyes; meanwhile, Zerlina’s insinuation vexed Flora greatly. Maria was not romantically attracted to her – she had never made any kind of pass at her. Had she?

Throwing her head back, the Tairen cackled wildly as her friends sneered – all except an obviously distraught Elena. None save Flora noticed the woman beside her tense, lips curling back in anger. With little warning, Maria’s hand darted to her untouched bowl of boiled potatoes, scooping up a lumpy handful. Drawing her arm back, she hurled the food at Zerlina.

The soft mass of tubers exploded as it collided with Zerlina’s laughing face. Sputtering, the Tairen wiped away chunks of potato that clung resolutely to her eyebrows. Beyond words, the dark-haired girl growled bestially as she returned Maria’s opening volley with a fistful of green beans that flew well wide of its intended target, connecting instead with the back of a Soldier’s head one table over.

With a derisive snort, the Altaran flicked a wad of braised beef at a livid Zerlina and its impact with her right cheek splattered dark sauce over the collected Novices. Said initiates rose in synchronised fury, pelting Maria and Flora together with the remnants of their own meals.

The singer shared an unimpressed glare with her friend as they simultaneously ducked beneath the table to avoid a flurry of flying food. “I hate you right now,” she growled.

Maria turned and grinned. “Admit it, you have not had this much fun since you arrived.”

Opening her mouth to retort, Flora paused. A clump of beans smacked her in the head; combing sauce-caked fingers through matted ginger hair, she gave a small smile in spite of herself. “Fine. You know we will pay for this later though.”

“Light blind the consequences.” The woman scraped a pile of beef off the floor and lobbed it toward their attackers.

Shaking her head, Flora reached a hand to the table above and pulled down more ammunition.

Cassie Majere, Novice Cassie breathed calmly as she left the classroom for the galley, her intent simply to devour as much food as possible before she continued on with her studies.

It had been months since she had been stuffed in the flaming ill-fitting white gown she wore now. The flaming thing fit her frame a little too snugly for her tastes, and it drew the errant eye from time to time.

However, the Novice knew better than to ask for something more appropriate lest the Mistress of Novices think she was complaining. And at this moment, she rather would like to stay below Mirin Sedai’s notice.

As much as she admired the woman, Cassandrya Majere knew she was a not a woman to be crossed. From her first days in the Grey Tower, the Cairhienin had told the red-haired Tar Valoner to learn self control, something Cassie freely admitted she was not easily able to do.

The lessons with some Aes Sedai and Accepted were changing that, but then there were times when she slipped. And then there were times when she was too tired to care ... the dreams she had were ... the eyes of the Whitecloak, a boy no older than her own seventeen summers, looked up in shock as blood poured from his throat ...

Today was one of those days where she bordered on tired, a lack of self-control and holding her emotions tightly. Should they slip, should she allow one spark of passion or anger to free itself, she could very likely begin channeling.

She’d rather do that of her own accord.

So the short red-haired Novice found herself wandering almost listlessly toward the galley, her hair done up in a single braid. Her amethyst eyes scanned everything with a half measure, and she kept alert just so she didn’t bump into anything. She somehow managed to do just that and found herself in line for food.

Cassie just wanted to avoid trouble and anything that might set her off like an Illuminator’s fireworks.

That failed just as she turned and heard the last round of insults being hurled toward a pair of Novices. Light, but she hated bullies. Her older brother Jalen knew this better than most when he taunted her and Coren, her twin brother. So one day, she took it upon herself to fill his boots with goat manure, and when he got enraged, she simply pushed him into a nearby pile and wailed on him until he surrendered.

Their lord father was torn between punishing his oldest daughter, a girl all of of seven, and laughing in admiration.

“Just as worse as that Tar Valon degenerate ... can’t even channel unless some woman is up her skirt ...”

That one was aimed directly at Cassie. She imagined a turbulent ocean wracked by storms, and suddenly going calm as the clouds dissipated and the waters stilling on the surface.

That ended when the first volley of food went flying and she saw the poor dears who were put on kitchen duty duck for cover. Cassie was torn between flight and fight — well that was, find a flaming Accepted or Aes Sedai to stop it.

Unfortunately the first bit of gravy-covered beef hit her square in the face. She nearly dropped her tray of food when her amethyst eyes cleared. One of the insulting Novices who was picking on the two other women smiled like a prancing she-goat.

“You’re just like the that other one ... utterly useless, you Tar Valon ...”

The lukewarm food on her tray went flying toward the woman. She screeched and then growled.

Cassie lifted an eyebrow and just about shouted. “She is not flaming useless, you flaming Trolloc-kissing chit! I swear I’ll ...”

She realized then that this core group of bullies was splitting their attention between herself and the other two Novices. So Cassie did what she did best ... get herself into a corner when she found herself suddenly holed up with the flaming Novices being insulted.

She promptly grabbed a piece of beef from the pretty red-haired Novice’s plate, stood and lobbed it at the Tairen before seeking cover again. With a rueful grin, she introduced herself. “Cassie Majere, the Tar Valon degenerate. You must be the useful one.”

Alric "Too old for this" Aurella