Bacon Sammich
(Picked up from V'teri!)
Kitchen, High Reaches Weyr(#267RJs)
Rhaelyn heads in from the living cavern.
It is a winter night, 19:42 of day 13, month 13, turn 25 of Interval 10.
It's much too late for any food to be out in the living caverns, meaning those seeking midnight snacks need to forage for themselves amongst the few supplies left unlocked. V'teri must do this a lot, however, as he's standing at the stove frying up some bacon, a cheerful whistle on his lips. There's a loaf of bread on the counter by him; perhaps sandwich making time. The kitchens are otherwise deserted.
The soft pad of slippered feet announce Rhaelyn's wayward stroll into the kitchens. Around her she wears not one robe, but two. The first is tied around her and the other slumping around her shoulders in oversized folds of soft cloth. The sound of activity has drawn her towards the kitchen and the be-robed exile peers around to see who she might find. Maybe it's the whistling that gives her confidence it's safe to make contact with the stranger, "Hello?"
Intent on eventually feeding himself, the bronzerider doesn't turn to the arrival of someone into his kitchen until the voice breaks through the beautiful sound that is sizzling bacon. The startle is slight, only a twitch of his shoulders and then a slower turn of his head as he attempts to keep one eye on his frying pan and the other one seeking out the owner of the voice. Favoring Rhaelyn with a briefly curious look, his expression nonetheless shifts to a quick smile. "Howdy," he replies congenially enough, "Was it the smell or the noise? I promised Giorda I wouldn't be too noisy in here if I ever came down to cook."
"The sound, but the smell also." Rhaelyn admits, scooting over closer with a chin-lifting sniff of the air, "What -is- that?" If she notices that she startled the bronzerider, only the widening of her smile signals it. "You are not being loud though, just everyone else is being so quiet." Attentive eyes watch the food in the pan, jumping as a loud pop and crackle come unexpectedly. Laughing she scoots back a step, "You are a cook?"
"Bacon," is V'teri's first words, turning back to the pan only after he's sussed that Rhaelyn isn't going to knife him in the back. She /seems/ relatively safe, safe enough, at least to finish up frying a few slices for himself and toss on a few more. "I'm not much of a cook, but back on the farm, after my mom died, th'only one left to take care of pa was me really. My sisters had gone off to craft and my brother's fostered elsewhere. You want it crisp or still fatty and chewy?"
"Bay-kin" Rhaelyn plays with the word accented up. As V'teri offers his back to her, the young woman doesn't have to hold herself nearly so stiff, her shoulders relax. "I see. Hard for one to take on all that work. Your father could not cook?" She steps to the side, watching the cooking just out of grease-pop range. "How do I? I don't know. This is new to me I think." The food gets a wary look as it sizzles back at her. "Do you eat it just like that?"
There's a chortling sound, high amusement found in whatever Rhaelyn's said and shortly thereafter, when V'teri finds his breath once more, he says, "Pa couldn't do anything much but tend to the pigs and slaughter them come butcherin' time. Couldn't even wash his clothes right." So poor, last born, stuck at home V'teri got tasked with it all. "I'll make it crisp. Do you like eggs? Or maybe that's a stupid question to ask?" A glance cast over his shoulder sizes up Rhaelyn again, ascertaining something that sets his jaw firm. "It's a lot to take in, isn't it?" is asked, nonchalantly, as he turns back to his frying.
"I see." Or at least Rhae is giving a go of getting her head around all these new things, "Although, I'm not sure what pigs are." She looks amused at the next question about eggs and answers, "I like many foods, but my stomach has a war with me over most things." Not that it's going to stop her, "I'd like to try the egg too if it's no trouble." Smiling warmly she laughs again and groans, "You have no idea. But I'll tell you something. Anything beats days on end, hunched over the ground trying to will vegitables to grow."
When Rhaelyn's bacon finishes curling and cooking to just barely crisp, V'teri spears them onto a plate and then begins to crack two eggs into the pan with the remnant bacon fat. "I'll make them slightly runny. That's the way I like them anyway." The eggs being on lower heat gives V'teri the time to turn and lean his frame backwards against the counter as he considers the twice be-robed girl before him. "Are you bored yet? I'd be bored stuck in a room all day with nothing to do. Riuscyth would probably chomp off someone's head if they forced him to live confined like that."
Rhaelyn eagerly watches the new food cooking. "Runny? Alright." Game to try just about anything at least once. She runs a hand through her hair as she meets V'teri's gaze, getting a better look at his face now that he's able to spare her more attention than the cooking. "I was sick for a couple weeks so I'm just getting back into the days in the barracks. I don't know that 'bored' is the right word but too much free time is not good for me." She lifts eyebrows about Riuscyth biting off heads, "Is that your mount?"
"Pa always said idle hands leads to mischief." But rather than coming off as the sage advice his father likely meant them to be, V'teri's vocal timbre shifts it into amusement. "I guess if I hadn't had some idle hands, I wouldn't have been Searched, nor would I have found Riuscyth, or," he allows, "Vice versa actually. He stumbled across me on the Monaco sands. I guess you could call him my mount. But that's a rather unlordly designation for a far too," the man's voice lowers into a mock hushed whisper, "Egotistic dragon. He'd take offense to it, being called my mount like some common runner."
Rhaelyn's eyes narrow a little, thoughtful, "My father said that as well. Of course it was usually after I got myself into some mess or another." She'll allow for her wayward side, letting the dragonrider see into her a little, "I don't think I know your name, Riuscyth's caretaker." A twinkle in her eyes for promoting his dragon's ego perhaps. Still learning how dragons work of course. "I'm Rhaelyn, or just Rhae." And then she notes, "I don't know what Monaco is...I keep hoping I will get to see a map and find where my families home once was and this Igen place and a place called Ista that I will be taken to soon for a visit. ah, and 'Runner', we had runners on our island, they would go from one shore to the other to bring word to the other settlements. I don't think they were very common though."
"Runners as in four-legged creatures people ride to travel faster. Though nothing travels quite as fast as a dragon, other than firelizards." But, ah, that would be a story for another time as V'teri turns to survey his frying pan. In an action far more gentle than his abuse of the bacon, he uses a spatula to turn them over so the yolks don't break. "I'm V'teri, but most people just call me Van. And I think-," the bronzerider tilts his head, though his face isn't visible to Rhaelyn herself, "-I think someone might be looking into that for you."
Rhaelyn hms quietly, leaning back in a comfortable manner, "More creatures. So many of them, I'm afraid I won't keep any of them straight." Her fingers push hair back behind one ear and she continues to peer after V'teri, "Van then." No words for a moment as she sniffs at the fried-egg smell, hhmmming again along with an agreeing nod. "I don't think your weyr wants us to be in the dark. Already people are asking us what dutie we would like to do. I'm not sure how to decide it all. THe choices are....vast."
While the eggs finish frying, V'teri sets to work on sawing off four slices of bread and gently lays down four strips of bacon on two pieces of bread. When the eggs finish? They get gently rested onto the x-pattern of bacon and the third and fourth slice of bread go on top of it. "Careful not to squish it too hard. You'll break the yolk and then it'll run all down your arms." He warns this, and yet after setting Rhaelyn's plate down in front of her, he takes up his own sandwich and squishes it firmly so the runny yellow starts dripping out of the sandwich. "Well," he says while chewing, clearly not very gentlemanly about this all, "What are you good at?"
"What I'm -good- at and what I enjoy are two completely different things." Rhaelyn notes after watching the making of the sandwhich and the placement of her plate before her. Now that it comes down to it, taking up the snack doens't come too quickly. First she pokes at the bread, strange stuff bread, lifting up the top to peer inside at the fixings. She hestitates, looking uncertain if she should share with this stranger and so her voice fails her. Gingerly she lifts the sandwich, smiling at how difficult it is to keep both sides together and still get it to her mouth. A small bite is taken, getting all three parts into it, chewing with what is frist a skeptical slant of eyebrows and then delighted as the taste fills her mouth.
The back of his hand swipes against his mouth while the other expertly holds onto his sandwich, never mind the yellow drippings. "Well, what are you good at and what do you enjoy?" The distinction made sotto voce. A teasing smile plays about his mouth, quirking his lips up lopsidedly. "I admit, we don't get much choice as dragonriders doing what we're good at versus what we enjoy. Impressing a dragon sometimes seems to restrict your career choices." But as he speaks, he notices the girl's stopped talking, and cocks a brow curiously, until a lengthy study makes him realize just why she never elaborated on her initial statement. "Good, huh?"
Rhaelyn smirks around her food at the re-wording of the question. She does murmur around the mouthful as the smile softens away the mockery. A laugh bubbles out as she ends up with yellow egg-goo coming down her hand, leaning in to lick the yoke up, not about to waste it. A few yellow splatters dot her plate still. "I can understand the desire to have a dragon." But does that mean she wants one? Vague that. "Very good flavor. Crunchy but ... soft." She takes another bite, still small in case it should want to surface again, but the taste is good enough to risk getting sick later. It takes a moment for her to speak again, "I would like to learn to play the lap harp. Learn stories. But I don't know. We were not allowed a choice to learn Harper-skills, it seems ...I don't know, tempting fate that it wouldn't be for me." Saying so much has her brows drawing together and quickly she adds, "I can sew. I fixed many wedding dresses. We only had a few nice dresses to go around so getting some girls into them..." There's an unkind little twitch of her lips at the memory, "Some girls ate better than others."
"Really?" Intrigued at what this outside view is of his life, V'teri tangents from what she should do with her life. "What do you think would the desire to have a dragon be?" He takes another large bite of his sandwich, leaving only a quarter of it left. He has a big mouth and he, too, eats better than others.
Rhaelyn mmms to answer the 'really'. As in 'oh yes', with her mouth full, nodding too. Now she's stuck between wanting to finish the mouthful of food and talk around around it. Manners wins, making up for her licking yoke from her hands and it takes her a moment to speak. Thoughts collected and carefully dealt out, "Better to see the world. Easier." Though it's only a fraction of her thoughts on the topic if that greedy shine in her eyes is any indication.
"Well, there is that," V'teri concedes, licking his finger and then popping the last quarter of his sandwich into his mouth. Having no lady-like qualms, he speaks while chewing, "But there's drills, daily physical training, following orders and somehow, taking advantage of greedy riders means I'm disrespecting authority." He's still not over that apparently, given how that last bit is muttered. "Ah well, I guess I can see why after being on an island forever, seeing the world might be fun, but you could join a trader's caravan and actually /see/ Pern and see its people. Have you thought about that?"
Rhaelyn shakes her head, pausing between bites. "I have not even heard of a ... trader before. I would like a room and nice things. To be warm and comfortable." These are high priority items on this little missy's list. She smiles in a self-mocking fashion, "Ooh, I cannot 'pick' the life of a dragonrider anyway, so it's hardly worth picking over details." Three bites is about all she can manage with her sensitive digestion. Sadly she pushes her leftovers across, "I should try to get some sleep I think. Thank you for your kindness."
V'teri laughs, a low thoughtful sound as Rhaelyn mocks herself. "None of us can, unfortunately. It just happens and I, myself, stood twice before Riuscyth found me. But I wish you luck in finding something you do well and enjoy doing until such a time comes when you can see all of Pern." He tips his yellow-smeared fingers to his forehead and salutes the girl on her quest for sleep. "Dream well, Rhaelyn."
Kitchen, High Reaches Weyr(#267RJs)
Rhaelyn heads in from the living cavern.
It is a winter night, 19:42 of day 13, month 13, turn 25 of Interval 10.
It's much too late for any food to be out in the living caverns, meaning those seeking midnight snacks need to forage for themselves amongst the few supplies left unlocked. V'teri must do this a lot, however, as he's standing at the stove frying up some bacon, a cheerful whistle on his lips. There's a loaf of bread on the counter by him; perhaps sandwich making time. The kitchens are otherwise deserted.
The soft pad of slippered feet announce Rhaelyn's wayward stroll into the kitchens. Around her she wears not one robe, but two. The first is tied around her and the other slumping around her shoulders in oversized folds of soft cloth. The sound of activity has drawn her towards the kitchen and the be-robed exile peers around to see who she might find. Maybe it's the whistling that gives her confidence it's safe to make contact with the stranger, "Hello?"
Intent on eventually feeding himself, the bronzerider doesn't turn to the arrival of someone into his kitchen until the voice breaks through the beautiful sound that is sizzling bacon. The startle is slight, only a twitch of his shoulders and then a slower turn of his head as he attempts to keep one eye on his frying pan and the other one seeking out the owner of the voice. Favoring Rhaelyn with a briefly curious look, his expression nonetheless shifts to a quick smile. "Howdy," he replies congenially enough, "Was it the smell or the noise? I promised Giorda I wouldn't be too noisy in here if I ever came down to cook."
"The sound, but the smell also." Rhaelyn admits, scooting over closer with a chin-lifting sniff of the air, "What -is- that?" If she notices that she startled the bronzerider, only the widening of her smile signals it. "You are not being loud though, just everyone else is being so quiet." Attentive eyes watch the food in the pan, jumping as a loud pop and crackle come unexpectedly. Laughing she scoots back a step, "You are a cook?"
"Bacon," is V'teri's first words, turning back to the pan only after he's sussed that Rhaelyn isn't going to knife him in the back. She /seems/ relatively safe, safe enough, at least to finish up frying a few slices for himself and toss on a few more. "I'm not much of a cook, but back on the farm, after my mom died, th'only one left to take care of pa was me really. My sisters had gone off to craft and my brother's fostered elsewhere. You want it crisp or still fatty and chewy?"
"Bay-kin" Rhaelyn plays with the word accented up. As V'teri offers his back to her, the young woman doesn't have to hold herself nearly so stiff, her shoulders relax. "I see. Hard for one to take on all that work. Your father could not cook?" She steps to the side, watching the cooking just out of grease-pop range. "How do I? I don't know. This is new to me I think." The food gets a wary look as it sizzles back at her. "Do you eat it just like that?"
There's a chortling sound, high amusement found in whatever Rhaelyn's said and shortly thereafter, when V'teri finds his breath once more, he says, "Pa couldn't do anything much but tend to the pigs and slaughter them come butcherin' time. Couldn't even wash his clothes right." So poor, last born, stuck at home V'teri got tasked with it all. "I'll make it crisp. Do you like eggs? Or maybe that's a stupid question to ask?" A glance cast over his shoulder sizes up Rhaelyn again, ascertaining something that sets his jaw firm. "It's a lot to take in, isn't it?" is asked, nonchalantly, as he turns back to his frying.
"I see." Or at least Rhae is giving a go of getting her head around all these new things, "Although, I'm not sure what pigs are." She looks amused at the next question about eggs and answers, "I like many foods, but my stomach has a war with me over most things." Not that it's going to stop her, "I'd like to try the egg too if it's no trouble." Smiling warmly she laughs again and groans, "You have no idea. But I'll tell you something. Anything beats days on end, hunched over the ground trying to will vegitables to grow."
When Rhaelyn's bacon finishes curling and cooking to just barely crisp, V'teri spears them onto a plate and then begins to crack two eggs into the pan with the remnant bacon fat. "I'll make them slightly runny. That's the way I like them anyway." The eggs being on lower heat gives V'teri the time to turn and lean his frame backwards against the counter as he considers the twice be-robed girl before him. "Are you bored yet? I'd be bored stuck in a room all day with nothing to do. Riuscyth would probably chomp off someone's head if they forced him to live confined like that."
Rhaelyn eagerly watches the new food cooking. "Runny? Alright." Game to try just about anything at least once. She runs a hand through her hair as she meets V'teri's gaze, getting a better look at his face now that he's able to spare her more attention than the cooking. "I was sick for a couple weeks so I'm just getting back into the days in the barracks. I don't know that 'bored' is the right word but too much free time is not good for me." She lifts eyebrows about Riuscyth biting off heads, "Is that your mount?"
"Pa always said idle hands leads to mischief." But rather than coming off as the sage advice his father likely meant them to be, V'teri's vocal timbre shifts it into amusement. "I guess if I hadn't had some idle hands, I wouldn't have been Searched, nor would I have found Riuscyth, or," he allows, "Vice versa actually. He stumbled across me on the Monaco sands. I guess you could call him my mount. But that's a rather unlordly designation for a far too," the man's voice lowers into a mock hushed whisper, "Egotistic dragon. He'd take offense to it, being called my mount like some common runner."
Rhaelyn's eyes narrow a little, thoughtful, "My father said that as well. Of course it was usually after I got myself into some mess or another." She'll allow for her wayward side, letting the dragonrider see into her a little, "I don't think I know your name, Riuscyth's caretaker." A twinkle in her eyes for promoting his dragon's ego perhaps. Still learning how dragons work of course. "I'm Rhaelyn, or just Rhae." And then she notes, "I don't know what Monaco is...I keep hoping I will get to see a map and find where my families home once was and this Igen place and a place called Ista that I will be taken to soon for a visit. ah, and 'Runner', we had runners on our island, they would go from one shore to the other to bring word to the other settlements. I don't think they were very common though."
"Runners as in four-legged creatures people ride to travel faster. Though nothing travels quite as fast as a dragon, other than firelizards." But, ah, that would be a story for another time as V'teri turns to survey his frying pan. In an action far more gentle than his abuse of the bacon, he uses a spatula to turn them over so the yolks don't break. "I'm V'teri, but most people just call me Van. And I think-," the bronzerider tilts his head, though his face isn't visible to Rhaelyn herself, "-I think someone might be looking into that for you."
Rhaelyn hms quietly, leaning back in a comfortable manner, "More creatures. So many of them, I'm afraid I won't keep any of them straight." Her fingers push hair back behind one ear and she continues to peer after V'teri, "Van then." No words for a moment as she sniffs at the fried-egg smell, hhmmming again along with an agreeing nod. "I don't think your weyr wants us to be in the dark. Already people are asking us what dutie we would like to do. I'm not sure how to decide it all. THe choices are....vast."
While the eggs finish frying, V'teri sets to work on sawing off four slices of bread and gently lays down four strips of bacon on two pieces of bread. When the eggs finish? They get gently rested onto the x-pattern of bacon and the third and fourth slice of bread go on top of it. "Careful not to squish it too hard. You'll break the yolk and then it'll run all down your arms." He warns this, and yet after setting Rhaelyn's plate down in front of her, he takes up his own sandwich and squishes it firmly so the runny yellow starts dripping out of the sandwich. "Well," he says while chewing, clearly not very gentlemanly about this all, "What are you good at?"
"What I'm -good- at and what I enjoy are two completely different things." Rhaelyn notes after watching the making of the sandwhich and the placement of her plate before her. Now that it comes down to it, taking up the snack doens't come too quickly. First she pokes at the bread, strange stuff bread, lifting up the top to peer inside at the fixings. She hestitates, looking uncertain if she should share with this stranger and so her voice fails her. Gingerly she lifts the sandwich, smiling at how difficult it is to keep both sides together and still get it to her mouth. A small bite is taken, getting all three parts into it, chewing with what is frist a skeptical slant of eyebrows and then delighted as the taste fills her mouth.
The back of his hand swipes against his mouth while the other expertly holds onto his sandwich, never mind the yellow drippings. "Well, what are you good at and what do you enjoy?" The distinction made sotto voce. A teasing smile plays about his mouth, quirking his lips up lopsidedly. "I admit, we don't get much choice as dragonriders doing what we're good at versus what we enjoy. Impressing a dragon sometimes seems to restrict your career choices." But as he speaks, he notices the girl's stopped talking, and cocks a brow curiously, until a lengthy study makes him realize just why she never elaborated on her initial statement. "Good, huh?"
Rhaelyn smirks around her food at the re-wording of the question. She does murmur around the mouthful as the smile softens away the mockery. A laugh bubbles out as she ends up with yellow egg-goo coming down her hand, leaning in to lick the yoke up, not about to waste it. A few yellow splatters dot her plate still. "I can understand the desire to have a dragon." But does that mean she wants one? Vague that. "Very good flavor. Crunchy but ... soft." She takes another bite, still small in case it should want to surface again, but the taste is good enough to risk getting sick later. It takes a moment for her to speak again, "I would like to learn to play the lap harp. Learn stories. But I don't know. We were not allowed a choice to learn Harper-skills, it seems ...I don't know, tempting fate that it wouldn't be for me." Saying so much has her brows drawing together and quickly she adds, "I can sew. I fixed many wedding dresses. We only had a few nice dresses to go around so getting some girls into them..." There's an unkind little twitch of her lips at the memory, "Some girls ate better than others."
"Really?" Intrigued at what this outside view is of his life, V'teri tangents from what she should do with her life. "What do you think would the desire to have a dragon be?" He takes another large bite of his sandwich, leaving only a quarter of it left. He has a big mouth and he, too, eats better than others.
Rhaelyn mmms to answer the 'really'. As in 'oh yes', with her mouth full, nodding too. Now she's stuck between wanting to finish the mouthful of food and talk around around it. Manners wins, making up for her licking yoke from her hands and it takes her a moment to speak. Thoughts collected and carefully dealt out, "Better to see the world. Easier." Though it's only a fraction of her thoughts on the topic if that greedy shine in her eyes is any indication.
"Well, there is that," V'teri concedes, licking his finger and then popping the last quarter of his sandwich into his mouth. Having no lady-like qualms, he speaks while chewing, "But there's drills, daily physical training, following orders and somehow, taking advantage of greedy riders means I'm disrespecting authority." He's still not over that apparently, given how that last bit is muttered. "Ah well, I guess I can see why after being on an island forever, seeing the world might be fun, but you could join a trader's caravan and actually /see/ Pern and see its people. Have you thought about that?"
Rhaelyn shakes her head, pausing between bites. "I have not even heard of a ... trader before. I would like a room and nice things. To be warm and comfortable." These are high priority items on this little missy's list. She smiles in a self-mocking fashion, "Ooh, I cannot 'pick' the life of a dragonrider anyway, so it's hardly worth picking over details." Three bites is about all she can manage with her sensitive digestion. Sadly she pushes her leftovers across, "I should try to get some sleep I think. Thank you for your kindness."
V'teri laughs, a low thoughtful sound as Rhaelyn mocks herself. "None of us can, unfortunately. It just happens and I, myself, stood twice before Riuscyth found me. But I wish you luck in finding something you do well and enjoy doing until such a time comes when you can see all of Pern." He tips his yellow-smeared fingers to his forehead and salutes the girl on her quest for sleep. "Dream well, Rhaelyn."