[M'try] More effing mud. Also. ISTANS.
RL Date: 7/18/10
IC Date: 3/28/23 --I would like everyone to know: I DID NOT STEAL THIS LOG FROM ANYONE. Again with the "in your face, Nenita."
Mudslide, Fort Weyr(#1842RJs$)
The rain has done much to wash away the vast amount of mud that slid into the Bowl and down the mountainside, but in places, what used to be a wall of earth, is still knee-deep muck that needs shoveling. Where once dirt nestled, hard-packed along the rocky arms of the Weyr's curve, there's now a gaping open space that leads to a sharp, slick drop off that slopes away into the mountain range that holds the Weyr. A long swathe of mud continues to ooze its way downward as more of the stuff gets washed out of the Bowl by continuing rain.
Odd depressions in the mud speak of uneven surfaces beneath the mucky coating and along the northern side of the mudslide, the strange sight of a set of 'stairs' seemingly leading to nowhere rises up from the flotsam. On the southern side of the bowl wall, half an alcove hangs out high above, presumably the leftovers of a weyr that was drowned in the first mudslide and additional cracks in the wall hint at more to be found below the mud line.
The wingleader of the other wing does not look like a farmer, thank you very much. It's possible that he'd rather look like one but Ch'son is dressed at least partially in his flight gear, the same that he has been when he's accompanied his wing here previously. After instructing Riptide to do whatever's needed of them, Ch'son lingers back near Nenita. "You plannin' on gettin' dirty?" he asks before there's anyone /too/ close to embarrass her with.
"Weyrleader, Weyrwoman," T'rev greets the incoming Istans as they near, head bobbing in a polite nod. "Would shake hands, but I don't think anyone'd be wantin' to shake mine today," he says with perhaps annoying cheerfulness, muddy as he is and looks over his shoulder toward Hattie. "Over yonder? Sure." He lifts his shovel, shakes some mud off of it and wades through the lingering coating of muck toward the greenrider.
Out of habit, Nenita pulls her riding gloves off. But wait, it's... forty something degrees here. With a roll of her eyes she begins shoving them back on over her fingers again and wrinkles her nose. Ch'son's question has her giving him a 'look'. "Of course I'm planning on getting dirty. Why else would I bring this?" This being a shovel that she's now removing from Safriath's packs. "Haven't you been getting dirty? What have you been doing here all week?" It's quite possible she thinks he's been hanging out at the local bars instead of actually helping, but the accusation dies on her lips. Because they're approaching Fort's former Weyrleader, "T'rev, where do we start... shoveling?" She asks, a smirk directed towards his muddy hand. Hattie in the distance gets a wave, since she's not quite close enough to talk yet.
B'kaiv notices the Istans' arrival, of course - who could not? - but he lets Hattie take care of manners and gives them only a sour look. If he digs a little harder than strictly necessary, dumps the mud into a bucket with extra gusto, well... this is his Weyr he's cleaning, after all. "Hey," he offers to T'rev as the Wingleader approaches, mutters something sotto-voice and jerks his head toward the visiting Weyrleaders.
Vanissa's probably been among one of those yelled at for throwing mud at some point but hey, a girl has to have some fun now and then! It's cool out, yes, but she's working hard enough that even though she's still more used to Nerat's warmth than Fort's chill, shorts and a sleeveless shirt work for her. She's back to work shortly after the quitting group has passed her, not really all that interested in the 'thing' that's being uncovered as in doing -something- about the mud. The arrival of the Istan contingent has her turning a grateful glance skyward, then sending B'kaiv an amused glance as she pitches her next shovelful aside. "Heya T'rev!" This to her brother as he slogs past her.
<< LOOK! ISTANS. >> Mohraith feels it's his responsibility to announce this to-- well. Everyone. It's a short while later, long enough to get his rider to put on more than his socks-and-underwear uniform, that the brown slides on down to the bowl and lands in a pretty good splashy spot so that there's just no way that M'try can find his feet in anything other than a mud puddle. "Just. Awesome. Thank you." So saying, he stays back a touch, perhaps to get the lay of the land (haha). After all. ISTANS.
"Where Hattie's said," T'rev echoes the Fortian weyrwoman, in answer to Nenita and Ch'son, gesturing toward the area where something built-looking is poking up from the muck. He grins over at Nissa and jerks his chin toward her bedraggled appearance. "You look like you're havin' fun more'n not," he teases his sister, then leans a little as Kai addresses him gives an easy shrug and murmurs a response and looks up toward the rim, squinting at Mecaith for a moment or two.
Dropping another wave to Nenita, Hattie turns and snags one of her passing wingmates to take the sketched outline back to shore with her, handing over clipboard and pen as well. On her journey, she directs a couple more volunteers over to deal with the situation closer to the bowl wall and calls out, "We need to get it clear over there so we can shift some of the mud over there!" to half a dozen semi-idle workers. Which doesn't scream of progress, but it seems that there's a plan in mind. On her way closer to the wall, she passes by Vanissa and mutters, "Do you think any of them have got the guts to stand on that thing?" with a nod towards the first 'step'. The thought has her turning, to call back to Ch'son and Nenita (and anyone else within earshot), "Over here!"
The accusations that Nenita clearly has but doesn't voice only make Ch'son grin as though they might be right. Even if they aren't. He doesn't respond to her but that probably just has to do with the fact that he's been making a decided effort lately to not be an ass in public and greetings that need to be exchanged as they get closer. His shovel is repositioned in his hand and he isn't going to wait for another invitation to head over toward where others are currently focusing with a briefly lingering look toward Hattie.
The Istan wings get their shit together and begin to wade through though mud and proceed to the appropriate area. They don't have any trouble with shoveling and there's fairly limited complaining, maybe they know better. Nenita gives Ch'son another look, one that's fairly difficult to make anything of. Before moving on, the goldrider sweeps the area with her eyes, taking in the gaping hole in Fort's wall with an intake of air. She catches sight of Mohraith's descent into the bowl, but neither her nor Safriath make a move to contact the pair. Instead she moves on after her Weyrleader, shovel in hand as she drifts on over to thing sticking out of the mud.
B'kaiv steps back once the Istans have arrived, taking the chance for his own breather. He wipes a hand across his face - fairly uselessly, as it mostly just smears the mud around. "Oughta go back t' where they come from," he continues to T'rev, just loud enough to be overheard. "Fort don't need no help from sharding Ista."
After a grin sent Laith's way for her needless relay of Mohraith's message, Nissa's shovelful lands with a plop. She's scooping another even while smirking in reply to T'rev and mock threatening to toss the load at him. She doesn't do it though, because yes, she does have some restraint. It might just be Hattie's approach and question, which has her peering at the stone ledge, "Who, the Istans?" She shakes her head. Could be either she doesn't know, or thinks that well, no they don't.
T'rev shoots Kai a look, a 'wtf' type of look. "Any help's appreciated," is what he says a little more loudly than the greenrider as his shovel clunks and thunks against stone under mud and he starts to scrape some of the muck away from what looks like another step on those stairs. "Gonna take a while longer to get this all cleared up and looks like there's all kinds of weird rock under here."
Well, someone has to start the mingling, and who better than M'try? "He's heartsick that she won't even say hello to him, ma'am," he reports rather suddenly, having had to jog a little to bring himself in line with the Istan Weyrleaders, the comment clearly meant for Nenita. It's soon followed by a polite, "Weyrleader, sir. Nice to see you." There's a very carefully swallowed 'again' in there, even while his eyes hit their shovels. "Might you direct a person where to collect one of his own?"
"Istans. Anybody," Hattie answers Vanissa, shrugging one shoulder and smirking just the tiniest bit. "If anyone does go exploring it, it'd probably need somebody light first. I don't really fancy fishing people from beneath rubble." That has her pausing and folding her arms across her chest, regarding the whole possible-stairs situation thoughtfully. "Shells, I /hope/ we don't end up fishing anybody from beneath rubble," she murmurs, shaking her head. "Need some more hands with that?" she calls over to T'rev and B'kaiv, close enough to not have to absolutely belt, eyeing those closest and en-route to the area.
At first it might seem like Ch'son is going to ignore what he overhears, keep on doing what he's doing. It's at least a couple of seconds before he says just loud enough to be heard right here, "A lot a shardin' Ista don't wanna be here helpin' Fort." He doesn't look at B'kaiv but he does turn a smile on T'rev, "And we'll all act happy 'bout it while we're here." M'try earns his attention long enough for him to say, "Sure." He doesn't get 'nice to see you's very often.
"I figured we wouldn't try to deplete Fort's shovel supply, so we brought our own." Nenita replies to the brownrider, ignoring his cute little comment from a moment prior. She waves a hand from M'try to the Istan Weyrleader and explains, "Ch'son, this is M'try." Like that name should ring some bells for him or something. When the bronzerider makes his own snide remark she takes a breath and turns completely towards the other person in their delightful trio. "You're pretty skinny, maybe you could go stand on the thing." She suggests while gesturing towards what Hattie and Vanissa are discussing. "You shouldn't collapse it."
Kai narrows his eyes at Ch'son's words and steps back, almost right into the other man's personal space and bypassing T'rev entirely. "Yeah? So maybe sharding Ista oughta go back home then, sit on th' beach again." His chin lifts, as though he's heard Hattie's words, but his eyes don't leave the foreign bronzerider.
Unsure, "Ain't it full of water Hattie? The lake's still awfully high..." Nissa's curious now, slogging in Hattie's wake to have a closer look. She disagrees with her wingmate lightly, "I'd like their help, Kai. My weyr's still flooded." It's the comment from Ch'son over there that has her pausing to glance his way, noting the other goldrider and M'try there as well. Both Istans are given a respectful salute. M'try's busy, but she smiles at him anyway, a smile that fades as B'kaiv gets all in the Istan Weyrleader's face. Not a word. No, she'll just shovel mud. Or something.
As decorously as he can manage, after his teeth click together with whatever he absolutely does not say-- Ch'son's big, M'try's not-- the brownrider answers to Nenita with a light, "That's well-thought courtesy on your part, Weyrwoman, and I'm sure our shovels appreciate the company." There's only the slightest stress on the shovels in that comment, soon followed by a long exhale. He could totally just seize on the opportunity to run off and put his skinny self to good use, but, with a subtle wince that's likely visible only to Nenita, he asks at his calmest, "And maybe Fort ought to be a little more gracious than to try to pick a fight with /visting Weyrleaders/, B'kaiv?"
T'rev remains visibly cheery still, not letting the undercurrents of tension deflate him as he scrapes a bit more mud off of that step. "Thanks for thinkin' ahead," the bronzerider says to Nenita, quite sincerely, half over his shoulder, seeing as he's bent to shift mud. Kai's move though, sees his shovel getting sunk into the mud, standing upright and he steps over to lay a hand on B'kaiv's shoulder. "Kai," he says simply, though there's a thread of something in his voice that might call back to when he did have the big knot. His next words though are lighter. "C'mon, man. Ain't the time or place."
Nenita has a similar wince when she hears the greenrider's approaching sloshes and his words. Turning slightly away from M'try, she levels a gaze on the pair behind her. The name 'B'kaiv' seems to produce a look of recognition fo her, as simple and tiny as it might be. "B'kaiv, B'kaiv. Hello, you know, I think that I know you. Not well, of course. But we've met before." She touches a finger to her temple, like she's having trouble remembering. "When I was a candidate, you came to Ista. I met you in the lower caverns, you were still a weyrling then. I think?" Her tone is light and pleasent, but not the look she gives Ch'son. The 'please don't' look.
"M'try." Ch'son repeats the name as though he has heard it before and that it's of some particular (unhappy) interest but, maybe fortunately for the brownrider, Ista's Weyrleader doesn't split his focus between him and B'kaiv. He's looking only at the greenrider now and that tension in his jaw is almost like he's biting back his quickly swelling temper. He ignores the words of caution the other is given but when Nenita speaks, whatever he might have said isn't. He stands his ground and arches a brow, a clear enough statement. He's not going anywhere. What're you gonna do about it?
"I mean that I don't want us to go pulling anything down by accident," Hattie murmurs to Vanissa, eyeing the edges of the bowl wall. She sticks by the greenrider's side, expression altering utterly as she reaches a halt. "B'kaiv. Back off," the weyrwoman states, voice low and features darkened even more than usual. "We're working together and if you can't deal with that, then you should find something else to do." Not very delicately, she raises her voice to be heard by anyone else shooting dark looks towards the riders from the foreign Weyr. "That applies to /everyone/. You want to pick a fight, I'm sure the Weyrleader will be pleased to have words with you all later."
B'kaiv seems more than happy to remain in Ch'son's face, despite the other Fortian's words, even Nenita's. Not until Hattie snaps does the edge of violence soften, and he only backs off after a 'this isn't over' narrowing of his eyes at the Weyrleader. "Don't remember," he admits to Nenita after a moment, sulky. He glances past the Istans at Hattie again, grunts sourly at everyone and no one, and retreats to Vanissa's far side just as if it was his idea to begin with, there to resume shoveling with increased vigor. Maybe he's pretending it's Istan mud?
There are plenty of people addressing B'kaiv's remarks, not that Vanissa would jump into anything being a lowly greenrider. She can talk to herself though! Under her breath, barely audible, she says with faint sarcasm, "That's right, piss off the help so they leave. I'll be homeless that much longer." It's hard to tear her eyes from the tableau, but she does long enough to eye what's left of the bowl wall above them and nod slowly in agreement with Hattie, "Yes. That'd be a mess. And painful." She'll just... help B'kaiv shovel.
Far from the truth, M'try says with effusive amiability, "I'm so glad I decided to do my civic duty and come down here, I can't even describe it." Scratching his forehead for a moment, brows knotted together, he combats a wholly frustrated expression to break into a smile, turning back to Nenita then. "What was it you were just saying, Weyrwoman? Something about offering me a leg-up?" With his chin tossed to indicate where the excavation's underway.
"That's a shame, I remember you. You were nice, I remember liking you." Nenita tells him, not one to just let something go like that. There's something like regret in her tone but she doesn't pursue him, watching with careful eyes as he moves away to return to the digging. She takes her shovel and pushes it into the mud, her foot following through with more force to push it below. "I'm sorry?" Like M'try just interrupted her train of thought she looks back to him, then to the excavation. "Right, a leg-up. Though," and now she glances down at her own figure. "I could probably do it too. Your weyr needs more small people." Which is somehow all his fault. Thumping Ch'son in the arm, "Try not to get in any trouble." The only warning he gets before she moves towards the heart of the excavation, shovel in hand.
As Kai desists, T'rev's hand drops away and he gives Nenita and Ch'son both a little nod, apologetic in quality, though he doesn't speak to the greenrider's behavior. He does however, shoot a glance Hattie's way briefly, before slogging back toward his shovel to pry it up out of the muck. The Istan Weyrwoman's approach lifts his head from that action however and he looks at the stair-to-nowhere with raised brows, politely holds out a hand. "Here, they're slippery."
Mood decidedly darker at this point, Ch'son glares after B'kaiv as the greenrider moves away, then takes a few moments to regather himself. The thump in the arm and the warning earn very little response. Since he's not exactly a small person, he sticks with what he's doing and throws himself back into the shoveling with renewed enthusiasm, grumbling to himself.
The junior hesitates a moment, aiming to rest a hand briefly against Vanissa's elbow like she'd apologize about the rain, the mud, the everything, then Hattie steps around to get a little closer to what's being uncovered. On her way, she reaches out, meaning to touch Kai's shoulder, accompanied by a quiet, "Thank you," though she doesn't seek to make more of it than that. She meets T'rev's gaze for the fraction of a second that she can, expression unreadable, then halts again, folding her arms. And then unfolds them, because it's not a brilliant idea to go doing that when you could slip over at any moment. "Let's try not to make mud-diving the event of the afternoon, huh?" she jokes when T'rev offers Nenita a hand.
M'try finds a grin in him somewhere, answering as if in innocence, "I'll give you a leg-up if you would prefer, Weyrwoman, though... I'm not so sure that I would trust me if I was you." So he nods, instead, to T'rev's offered hand before moving away from Nenita entirely to collect a shovel, grasping it like he's not really all that familiar with the implement. Hi, Shovel, how do you work? He shoots a quick look toward Vanissa, but-- even so armed-- he shies away from wherever B'kaiv's wound up.
B'kaiv settles in to shoveling, and contents himself with shooting dark looks at the whole of the Istan contingent rather than taking them all on. M'try probably gets a corner of one of those, and when T'rev offers his hand to Nenita the greenrider mutters something sour under his breath. Even Nissa probably can't catch it all - lucky for her. Instead, louder, "Hey Hattie - you think it's safe out there for you?" For /her/. He's not worried about anyone else.
"M'try? When have I ever really trusted you?" Nenita shoots back, a smile taking up the corners of her lips. The hand up from the bronzerider is taken as she and her shovel move up a couple of steps. She hits one that's particularly coated with mud and begins to clear it off. "I'll try, hopefully I won't die here at Fort. I'm not sure that would look good for diplomatic relations." She jokes, casting a glance down at Ch'son. Who may or may not have noticed exactly what she's doing up there yet. One step up.
Vanissa pauses her shovel-thrust at Hattie's touch, gives her a brief smile over her own discomfort with the tension in the air. She blinks past to those stairs, watching dubiously as Nenita approaches them. She sweeps a glance 'round, catches M'try's glance, shrugs stifling her own amusement at the glaring B'kaiv is shooting everyone. "Don't look all that safe to me." That's her two cents.
"Now I get that y'all don't really want us here, but I'm gonna get kind of pissed off if y' go killin' my Weyrwoman." Ch'son has ceased in his shoveling to watch this now, looking both amused and uncertain about putting the small goldrider at risk like this.
"Probably not," Hattie calls back to Kai, all wry cheer and smile. "But since when has anything like that stopped me?" This is the girl that went Between before being taught, after all. If she takes her clutchbrother's enquiry onboard, it only shows by just how quiet she goes for a few moments. "I don't think it's all that safe for anybody, really." Hence why she has her focus mostly fixed on Nenita. "Screw diplomatic relations," she declares. The horror! "Just don't sharding fall down, you hear?" Yes. This is Hattie's version of worry for somebody.
"I like to think," M'try says, finding some place that needs shoveling-- or that he thinks needs shoveling, which means it may or may not really /need/ it, but he sets to it anyway, "that there was a brief instant, before we'd actually spoken, when you might have thought I was a promisingly bookish young man." Speaking of bookish, he's pretty well puffing after a half-dozen scoops, murmuring as an aside to himself, "How long are we supposed to be at this, again?"
"Some kind of pissed?" Nenita repeats, turning back from her staircase cleaning to stare down at the Istan bronzerider. "You know, you really are a stunning example of a Weyrleader. What would I ever do without your support and backing?" There's an exasperated sigh for Ch'son (and alright, fine, a bemused smile too) before she shovels dirt off the next step. Moving carefully up to the next. Riders from the island contingent can only snicker at the back and forth. "I'll try not to, you know, this thing goes awfully high up?" Nenita hears some of that, gives M'try a look. "Yeah. Right. Maybe a little after, you know, when you were wearing that crown with the pretty jewels and all?"
T'rev gives Nenita a little nod as she takes his hand and he holds on as she heads upward until she resumes shoveling. "There won't be any killin' or dyin' here today if I've got anything t'say about it," the bronzerider says with a flicker of brows upward. "I can spot you," he offers to Nenita and therefore will wind up doing the gentlemanly thing and follows her up the stairs, still with his shovel in hand. "These actually feel pretty solid," he notes downward.
B'kaiv finishes filling a bucket and nods to the man who carries it away, stealing the moment to rest. His attention on the group over at the stairs, he tries and fails to seat his shovel in the mud; looks down and sets a foot on the blade to shove it in, staggering when there's a dull thunk. "--Huh," says he, and, "Think there's a rock, Nissa, be careful." Intrigued, he doesn't wait for a replacement bucket but resumes digging, aiming for depth rather than mud removal.
"Now now now," M'try counters, leaning on his shovel for a moment with his hand raking hair back off his forehead, leaving a little mud behind. Awesome. "That crown happens to bring out my eyes very nicely." Eyes that land for a second on T'rev at his assurance, and-- wiping his cheek with his shoulder in a raise of the latter to the former-- he adds another of those 'you can pretend not to have heard this if you'd like to' mutters; "I'm not sure I'd be making promises I can't keep." Ahem. This one meant to be heard, he lifts his shovel by the handle and drives it straight down again, striking hard just beneath the thin layer of mud, saying after B'kaiv, "It's a very big rock, in that case."
Most of this back and forth is going over Vanissa's head. There's a point where hazel eyes flicker between Nenita and M'try at that trust comment, tawny brows flicker upwards just a tic, a little further at the mention of him wearing a crown. Little headshake, not even gonna try to make sense of it, keeping her face nearly expressionless if she can. Lalala. She's just here to move mud and thus does so while keeping her mouth shut, even though it seems others might be into the proverbial mud-slinging. The warning from B'kaiv draws Nissa from her own thoughts, "Yeah? Alright." And she's working to deepen the angle of her digging as well.
"I am, aye," Ch'son says as though he's being very gracious. Never mind that grin (and those laughs) that suggest this is pretty standard. He watches for another handful of moments, then seems content enough that it's not all going to collapse and break his Senior to turn his attention out toward his other riders to make sure no one's being too idle with themselves.
Nenita stamps her foot against the stair under her feet, glancing down at the bronzerider now coming up there with her. "Yeah, it doesn't feel like it's going to collapse any time soon. How far up do you think...?" She trails off, the question hanging there. Steadily she continues to clean a path up there stairs, occaisonally glancing back for T'rev and at the people below. There's a lingering look that rests on Ch'son. But it's M'try that she ends up calling to, "Yeah, you looked very pretty!" She's getting a bit high up now, so it's probably not a good idea to keep yelling at people on the ground.
Given givens, it's probably not a good idea for Hattie to start up those stairs, and so she doesn't, not immediately at any rate. Perhaps she really has listened to B'kaiv despite her chirpy response. For the moment, she watches the progress of Nenita and T'rev and folds her arms again, only to immediately unfold them once more. Again. "If the stairs are steady, perhaps we all should...?" she suggests, still eyeing the stairs. "Safety in numbers? They don't look as if they're going to break."
"Couple rocks, maybe," Kai suggests to M'try before throwing a look sidelong at Vanissa. "Careful," he adds for no reason, letting the stair-climbers climb their stairs with neither assistance nor observation. He locates the edge of the rock and sketches out the edge before skimming mud from its top to reveal the stone itself.
Dragon> Let's just be grateful that he's elected to keep this comment at least partially on the down-low, right? Because he could totally share it with every dragon at Fort if he felt like it. << M'try says he'll tell people how pretty Nenita's cleavage was if she wants to talk about looks. >> (Mohraith to Safriath)
Vanissa's pretty much lost interest in the progress up those stairs. She's doggedly shoveling away determinedly minding her own business, expression remote. Lost in thought, apparently, she's keeping her head down and merely nods to B'kaiv, putting her efforts into helping him uncover the stone.
M'try watches what B'kaiv's doing for a second, kind of like wary, kind of like curiosity-- he wants to know, but he also wants to be sure he still has a head-start. Taking a cue, a quick-glance toward the stairs with a snicker for Nenita's comments-- yeah, too far to go shouting back-- he ducks his head and scrapes away the mud with the point of the shovel. "Couple big rocks," as now he's looking for his 'end.'
Cleanliness is the give-away that Kaida is only just making her way out of the caverns, but her clothing is rough: sturdy boots, heavy trousers, a faded and worn shirt. With her braid bound into a thick coil about her head, the knotless woman looks ready to work. Better late and willing than prompt and lazy? Picking her way past workers and scanning faces, it's Fort's Junior she approaches once she's managed to locate her. "Any place in particular that requires an extra set of hands, weyrwoman?" With a polite nod and only the faintest suggestion of a smirk for the nearby Ch'son.
Dragon> To Mohraith, Safriath must be pretty distracted that she actually bothers to respond to Mohraith before remembering how much she doesn't like him. It's almost sad how fixated she is on Nenita up those stairs, an overactive imagination projecting images of her rider tumbling down and cracking her skull open, breaking her neck, smashed to itty bitty Nenita pieces. << You're not funny. He's not funny. That staircase isn't funny. I'm cold. This place is muddy. I'm going to have to move mud soon! >> An image of dragons moving large amounts of mud on tarps, her and Elaruth specifically.
T'rev makes himself useful scraping off more mud and also pausing to anchor his shovel when Nenita's about to take the next step upward, hovering a hand nearby in case she needs to make a grab for something solid. "Looks like they go into the wall up there now we've got it mostly cleared off," T'rev remarks to Nenita during one of those pauses and he looks down below to the others, lets out a low whistle as the naked heads of those rocks come to light around where M'try and B'kaiv are digging. "Huh. Guess that's why the mud was all funny and uneven," he murmurs.
"Tragedy in numbers," Ch'son amends, ball of sunshine that he is. He taps at the last with his shovel, which he must think is just fine and won't somehow start up any sort of chain-reaction. That and it's possible he's a little distracted by the arrival of Kaida, looking at her like he knows he knows her but might be having trouble placing her.
Dragon> To Safriath, Mohraith can take a lot of abuse. He'd kinda have to, given his personality quirks, but he sulks dismally while he answers, << M'try's funny. >> There's the mental equivalent of a sniffle. << I'll move mud for you, >> like a sad kid hoping to get a second dessert.
Muddy, but minus a shovel, Hattie looks up at Kaida and smiles faintly, gaze then roaming about the area as she quickly checks up on the groups working nearby. "We seem to be discovering a lot of things around here, if they do turn out to be anything, that is. It would probably be a good idea to stick nearby if that's suit?" she responds, upon discovering that nobody is just standing about flinging mud at each other. Yet. "It needs moving from around here, anyhow. Unless you'd like to give those stairs a go?" she nods to where Nenita and T'rev are rapidly disappearing, from her vantage point anyway.
"Should we go in?" Nenita asks, looking questioningly back at T'rev as they approach that entrance. She scrapes some more mud out of the way and steps up, peering towards it. "Maybe we should get... something to see with in case it goes deep enough inside?" She anchors her own shovel down into a pile and looks past the bronzerider, down to the people below to see if there is in fact anyone else coming up there to aid in the staircase adventure. Thankfully, she's too far up in the air to see Kaida and Ch'son eyeing each other and jump to any awesome conclusions that probably include: You're a pig, stop sleeping with everyone and You're disgusting, damnit.
Vanissa works her way slowly across towards M'try. Someone's got to clear the mud between them and likely her doing it won't send the brownrider running the way B'kaiv moving towards him with (or without) a shovel would. Still silent, eyes on the ground, she doesn't even so much as say hello. Just digs.
Dragon> To Mohraith, Safriath leaves her perch on the bowl wall and descends to the ground below, arriving wherever the large tarps have come to be. << In your opinion. >> She remarks dryly, perhaps the focus on work to come has her relaxing and thinking so much: omg, my rider is going to die here. << You can help us, but I need to do this too. Try not to be so loud. >> It doesn't have its usual bite, there's even an encouraging mental nudge for him.
"Not without a torch or some glows," T'rev replies to Nenita about the direction the stairs are going, agreeing about light. "Don't think we gotta worry about bad air, but it'd be pretty unfortunate t'take a bad step in the dark and fall down some old hole," the bronzerider says bluntly. And the less said about anyone's bedding habits, the better in this case.
B'kaiv's being good: not only is he not throwing mud, he's not throwing anything. Yet. "Yeah," he agrees with M'try in a grunt. He continues working to find the edge of the rock - or rocks - slowly but steadily moving away from the other two.
Tilting her head, Kaida eyes the stairs with a heavy dose of mistrust. "Should anyone really be climbing them when they're still slick?" Since she's been given the choice, "I think I'll only risk bruising my ass, not breaking my neck. Pardon me, Weyrleader." So she can step past and get a shovel. She might be /amused/ to see him, but she's here to sling mud, not flirt.
"Any way you think we could get some? You know, without climbing all the way the fuck back down?" Nenita lifts her eyebrow at T'rev, with a weighty look given to the stairs they would have to traverse downwards. "This is one of those times I wish I had a firelizard or you know, a penchant for thinking things through ahead of time. Because I'd really prefer to not fall down some hole to nowhere, this isn't where I want to die. Believe it or not." Just some morbid humor.
Ch'son remains oblivious to any looks he's given from Nenita. He just moves a hand for Kaida to move past him and his gaze might follow her for a couple of steps before it's cast back up along the stairs. He doesn't go volunteering any of his own to fetch glows or anything so either he's not paying attention what's being said or he's just not going to offer.
<< I WASN'T BEING LOUD. >> That's clearly in response to something, thanks Mohraith, and the brown lifts his head to look for Safriath. His rider, totally trying to pretend he's not aware of anything the brown's doing, is quick with a smile for Vanissa, saying, "I would have thought you, of all people, would have had your fill of shoveling mud by now. Just can't get enough of it, or...?" Because he's being helpful and not just because B'kaiv and a shovel seems like a bad idea, M'try tends to be working vaguely along the edge of that big rock-shelf-thingy toward the bowl wall.
Dragon> To Safriath, Mohraith projects, << See? That was loud. >> Moral of the story: don't encourage him next time, silly gold. << Why do you gotta do it, doll? You don't even live here. >>
"Actually ... yes," T'rev answers with a laugh and lifts a hand to sweep through his hair. "Though I'm not sure if Trouble is really big enough to carry anythin heavy yet," the Fortian bronzerider says thoughtfully. "Mecaith's asking Elaruth to pass the word along. Hattie's Tilly can probably swing a basket of glows. Might as well take a little break while that's gettin' taken care of. Because believe it or not, I don't want you to die here either," he adds, teasing the Istan Weyrwoman a little.
It's several shovelfuls later that Nissa answers M'try without looking up. Her answer is short, evasive, "Tryin' to keep busy." Scraping along that rock, she steps around him and keeps on going, tossing the mud to a vague pile forming where others can cart it away.
Dragon> To Mohraith, Safriath's response is quick, it's that usual mental thwack that she gives to Mohraith anytime he shouts loudly in her mind when he's at Ista. << Try not to be too loud. >> That brief little glimpse of niceness disappears and she regroups herself into being mood and rather annoyed. Shifting around she waits for these tarp things to arrive so that she can help move dirt. << Because. I need to do something, I can't just sit her while she's up there. It isn't right. >>
Dragon> To Safriath, Mohraith projects, << No one's really gonna push her, doll. >> The fact that he feels this is important enough to distinguish is pretty damn telling, though. He really does mean this to be reassuring; << Chielyth's is too far away, and M'try would kinda miss her if she broke her neck. Relax. >>
Left to his own devices, Kai continues digging, his blade clunking into and scraping along the rock.
It's just as Elaruth leans to touch her nose gently to Mecaith's side before the pale queen unfurls her wings and drops down into the bowl, that Hattie goes distant and drags her attention away from stairs and rocks uncovered. Without explanation, she heads off, away from the excavation and through the mud, across to more of the bowl proper, following the flight-path of her lifemate. "Any dragons want to shovel mud - Elaruth and Safriath look to be organizing moving it," she calls, which explains where she heads off to, to deal with tarpaulins and things that dragon paws can't quite cope with alone. A short while after the junior has started sorting that situation, Tilly appears with the required glows and hands them off to T'rev and Nenita reasonably politely, but otherwise the weyrwoman stays to assist Fortian and Istan queen and anyone else they might have rounded up in the meantime.
Nenita's eyes take on a glazed look and it's a moment or two before she shakes her head, "Some of the dragons are going to help move dirt. Safriath included." She points down to where efforts to organize that seem to be occuring. "She's going to want a bath later." As far as taking a break, she doesn't need to be told twice. With an ungraceful 'oompf', she drops down onto the damp, muddy stairs and settles down. "Damn fin- That was quick." She mutters when the firelizard appears over their heads, handing the required glows off. "So much for resting." Using her shovel as a pick up, she pulls herself to her feet. (And her player waits for T'rev to come back from eating :P)
M'try pauses in between shovelfuls. Which he does kind of a lot anyway, so it's not that big of a deal, though this time it's specifically to give Vanissa an odd glance. "It seems to be working quite well for you," he quips, watching her splatters of mud outpace his in a way that really ought to be embarrassing. "Well then." Shovel, mud, splat. Shovel, mud, splat.
Dragon> To Mohraith, Safriath hadn't been thinking that, thanks. But now she is as she turns worried, whirling eyes on him. << You're not comforting, do you know that? I don't know what she sees in either one of you. Excuse me, but I have mud to move. >> She whips her head away, decidely not looking at him and waits for instructions on how exactly get hooked up to the tarps and move them.
"It's-" Nissa's voice sounds oddly strained, her comment (and shoveling -yay!) interrupted to listen to the announcement from first Hattie then Nenita. "Oh, they're gonna wind up knocking it into the lake, you watch. The level..." Her gaze shifts from the bowl where dragons are gathering to M'try with both apology and a little confusion in her eyes. "Ya been stuck with me a long time." She bends to sink her shovel into the mud once more.
Kaida locates a spare shovel, and on her way past (again) offers a conversational, "Congratulations on a healthy clutch, by the way." to Ch'son. If she also seems to be laughing silently at the Istan bronzerider, well, she is. Wary of falling debris, a moment is spared to consider the glop near the foot of the stairs, before she decides to keep going. Which brings her to giving B'kaiv the surprising offer of, "Shall I start on the other side, so you can actually get some leverage if it's not attached?"
Dragon> To Safriath, Mohraith, admittedly, << Yeah, I do know that. But I'd be good at moving mud if you'd let me help you! >> This-- this he believes firmly, and is just champing at the bit for the chance to go and get all muddy with a visiting queen. Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease.
Standing mostly idle at this point while all the 'little people' work their butts off, Ch'son watches Nenita and T'rev maybe a little closer than he really needs to. It doesn't keep him from turning his head, grinning and snapping off a lazy salute toward Kaida. "Thanks, gorgeous."
Dragon> To Mohraith, Safriath would be rolling her eyes if rolling them were possible. In a very human like fashion she turns to shoot a look at him and there's a mental sigh. << Fine. You can help me move mud. As long as you don't mention anyone pushing anyone else down any stairs while you're near me. Got it? >>
"Actually, from what I can gather," with M'try glancing uncertainly between Mohraith, Safriath, Mohraith, Safriath, then shaking his head busily and putting his eyes back on the mud underfoot, "they intend to haul the mud away. On tarps. Attached to queens. Behold, the protectors of Pern." Out of nowhere, "I wouldn't call it 'stuck with you,' personally, but that's quite a draft, isn't it?" His shovel roots around aimlessly for a moment while he searches for the source of said draft.
B'kaiv pauses again to narrow his eyes at Kaida, his face nearly obscured by mud and only a few streaks of more-or-less clean skin peeking out. He grunts agreement - or what could be taken as such - and bends for another shovelful; after that's cleared he adds actual words: "Yeah. Dunno how deep it goes. Pretty big, though." He sketches out a very rough square with a finger. "If you ain't got gloves, you should get 'em. Otherwise you're gonna blister." He has gloves, a ragged pair of thin wherhide, the seams splitting in a few places.
Dragon> To Safriath, Mohraith projects, << What if it was Nenita-- >> By name, even, someone's feeling uppity. Probably just because Safriath's talking to him at all, woo~! << --pushing M'try down the stairs? We could talk about that instead. >>
Dragon> To Mohraith, Safriath projects, << Nenita does not want to push him down the stairs. >> Though it sounds like someone else in this conversation might not be feeling as nice as Ista's Weyrwoman. But she keeps it tightly under wraps, no images of the brownrider tumbling down the stairs to land face down in the mud- Whoops. Okay, maybe a little of that is projected. And if there's some possiveness regarding Mohraith using her rider's name outloud, she locks it down without commentary. Though it's there, under the surface. >>
"Yeah, Mecaith mentioned, he's gonna help too," T'rev tells Nenita and then eyes the lake. "Sorry the lake's a mess here, though the water's warmer back Ista way anyhow," the bronzerider says and leans against the wall to wait on incoming glows, which then arrive much more quickly than expected. "Well hey, guess you can train them pretty well," is his take on that and he starts to offer Nenita a hand up, but she grabs the shovel and he shoots her a quick grin. "Ready to dare the dark?" Safriath and Elaruth are organizing and Mecaith finally drops down to join in the earthmoving fun at some unheard signal.
"Oh." Nissa should look relieved at that, really she should, that the lake level will not be rising, might even drop. Busily trying to load as much mud onto her shovel as she can, she avoids looking back at M'try, but her eyes drift towards those stairs for a moment when she says with a touch of uncertainty, "Oh ya wouldn't?" But draft, oh yes! "I... guess? Is it coming from down...?" Kneeling in the mud, she reaches a hand towards the hole he's digging. "That's wierd."
Nenita grins crookedly at the belatedly offered hand, shooting yet another look down at the ground. Safriath helping with the mud removal has her eyebrow lifted with amusement, though less of that is transfered to Mohraith nearby. Her gaze drifts along the groups digging dirt, slowing on some individuals before she shakes her head. "Ready. I'll let you know if I'm afraid of the dark once we get inside. I promise not to cry or anything." She glances past him to wall, "Really."
Dragon> To Safriath, Mohraith seems surprised by this. << Really? Most people do. >> So the image of M'try getting all bludgeoned? Not all that arresting for him.
Dragon> To Mohraith, Safriath shares in the surprise. << Really. Go figure. >>
"The whole thing is weird," M'try agrees promptly, some of his quirky humor owing to the fact that Mohraith is, in fact, over there helping an Istan queen remove mounds of Fortian dirt from the bowl. Shaking his head to clear it, he starts digging around experimentally, ever the 'look before he leaps' type.
"Okay, and y'know, just grab my arm if you're feelin' unsettled," T'rev quips with another merry grin and uses his shovel to slough off a bit more of the stuff so it's not quite so slippery up here, then rests it against the wall again. "Onward, Weyrwoman," he says gaily, glow basket lifted high, as he continues up the stairs and into the bowl wall.
The big greenrider narrows his eyes again but nods once the gloves are produced, adding another grunt. "Be flamed if I know," as he bends once more to the work. "They just said 'come dig', and I'm digging. Ain't got no idea where all this mud," he stomps demonstratively, "coulda come from, much less no rocks."
T'rev heads up the stairs
There's a sort of slump in the mud they're digging in and since Nissa's on her knees, she hasn't time to scramble back when the whole lot just gives way and drops out from underneath. The greenrider tries throwing herself backwards and away from it, but she's being carried with it. It all happens so quickly, she twists, flings out a hand to well, drag M'try to his death maybe?
The Istan Weyrleader barks out a laugh and he finally moves away from his staircase vigil to moves out closer to where Kaida has found a place to work. "Meant it then, too. You move recently or?" Ch'son's tone is definitely along the lines of 'why are you hanging out with /this/ group?'
M'try could totally flail backward to safety. He could. He might actually be trying to, for a second, but it does all happen pretty quickly, and he falls right on down after Vanissa. Next on your daily dose of metaphor...
IC Date: 3/28/23 --I would like everyone to know: I DID NOT STEAL THIS LOG FROM ANYONE. Again with the "in your face, Nenita."
Mudslide, Fort Weyr(#1842RJs$)
The rain has done much to wash away the vast amount of mud that slid into the Bowl and down the mountainside, but in places, what used to be a wall of earth, is still knee-deep muck that needs shoveling. Where once dirt nestled, hard-packed along the rocky arms of the Weyr's curve, there's now a gaping open space that leads to a sharp, slick drop off that slopes away into the mountain range that holds the Weyr. A long swathe of mud continues to ooze its way downward as more of the stuff gets washed out of the Bowl by continuing rain.
Odd depressions in the mud speak of uneven surfaces beneath the mucky coating and along the northern side of the mudslide, the strange sight of a set of 'stairs' seemingly leading to nowhere rises up from the flotsam. On the southern side of the bowl wall, half an alcove hangs out high above, presumably the leftovers of a weyr that was drowned in the first mudslide and additional cracks in the wall hint at more to be found below the mud line.
The wingleader of the other wing does not look like a farmer, thank you very much. It's possible that he'd rather look like one but Ch'son is dressed at least partially in his flight gear, the same that he has been when he's accompanied his wing here previously. After instructing Riptide to do whatever's needed of them, Ch'son lingers back near Nenita. "You plannin' on gettin' dirty?" he asks before there's anyone /too/ close to embarrass her with.
"Weyrleader, Weyrwoman," T'rev greets the incoming Istans as they near, head bobbing in a polite nod. "Would shake hands, but I don't think anyone'd be wantin' to shake mine today," he says with perhaps annoying cheerfulness, muddy as he is and looks over his shoulder toward Hattie. "Over yonder? Sure." He lifts his shovel, shakes some mud off of it and wades through the lingering coating of muck toward the greenrider.
Out of habit, Nenita pulls her riding gloves off. But wait, it's... forty something degrees here. With a roll of her eyes she begins shoving them back on over her fingers again and wrinkles her nose. Ch'son's question has her giving him a 'look'. "Of course I'm planning on getting dirty. Why else would I bring this?" This being a shovel that she's now removing from Safriath's packs. "Haven't you been getting dirty? What have you been doing here all week?" It's quite possible she thinks he's been hanging out at the local bars instead of actually helping, but the accusation dies on her lips. Because they're approaching Fort's former Weyrleader, "T'rev, where do we start... shoveling?" She asks, a smirk directed towards his muddy hand. Hattie in the distance gets a wave, since she's not quite close enough to talk yet.
B'kaiv notices the Istans' arrival, of course - who could not? - but he lets Hattie take care of manners and gives them only a sour look. If he digs a little harder than strictly necessary, dumps the mud into a bucket with extra gusto, well... this is his Weyr he's cleaning, after all. "Hey," he offers to T'rev as the Wingleader approaches, mutters something sotto-voice and jerks his head toward the visiting Weyrleaders.
Vanissa's probably been among one of those yelled at for throwing mud at some point but hey, a girl has to have some fun now and then! It's cool out, yes, but she's working hard enough that even though she's still more used to Nerat's warmth than Fort's chill, shorts and a sleeveless shirt work for her. She's back to work shortly after the quitting group has passed her, not really all that interested in the 'thing' that's being uncovered as in doing -something- about the mud. The arrival of the Istan contingent has her turning a grateful glance skyward, then sending B'kaiv an amused glance as she pitches her next shovelful aside. "Heya T'rev!" This to her brother as he slogs past her.
<< LOOK! ISTANS. >> Mohraith feels it's his responsibility to announce this to-- well. Everyone. It's a short while later, long enough to get his rider to put on more than his socks-and-underwear uniform, that the brown slides on down to the bowl and lands in a pretty good splashy spot so that there's just no way that M'try can find his feet in anything other than a mud puddle. "Just. Awesome. Thank you." So saying, he stays back a touch, perhaps to get the lay of the land (haha). After all. ISTANS.
"Where Hattie's said," T'rev echoes the Fortian weyrwoman, in answer to Nenita and Ch'son, gesturing toward the area where something built-looking is poking up from the muck. He grins over at Nissa and jerks his chin toward her bedraggled appearance. "You look like you're havin' fun more'n not," he teases his sister, then leans a little as Kai addresses him gives an easy shrug and murmurs a response and looks up toward the rim, squinting at Mecaith for a moment or two.
Dropping another wave to Nenita, Hattie turns and snags one of her passing wingmates to take the sketched outline back to shore with her, handing over clipboard and pen as well. On her journey, she directs a couple more volunteers over to deal with the situation closer to the bowl wall and calls out, "We need to get it clear over there so we can shift some of the mud over there!" to half a dozen semi-idle workers. Which doesn't scream of progress, but it seems that there's a plan in mind. On her way closer to the wall, she passes by Vanissa and mutters, "Do you think any of them have got the guts to stand on that thing?" with a nod towards the first 'step'. The thought has her turning, to call back to Ch'son and Nenita (and anyone else within earshot), "Over here!"
The accusations that Nenita clearly has but doesn't voice only make Ch'son grin as though they might be right. Even if they aren't. He doesn't respond to her but that probably just has to do with the fact that he's been making a decided effort lately to not be an ass in public and greetings that need to be exchanged as they get closer. His shovel is repositioned in his hand and he isn't going to wait for another invitation to head over toward where others are currently focusing with a briefly lingering look toward Hattie.
The Istan wings get their shit together and begin to wade through though mud and proceed to the appropriate area. They don't have any trouble with shoveling and there's fairly limited complaining, maybe they know better. Nenita gives Ch'son another look, one that's fairly difficult to make anything of. Before moving on, the goldrider sweeps the area with her eyes, taking in the gaping hole in Fort's wall with an intake of air. She catches sight of Mohraith's descent into the bowl, but neither her nor Safriath make a move to contact the pair. Instead she moves on after her Weyrleader, shovel in hand as she drifts on over to thing sticking out of the mud.
B'kaiv steps back once the Istans have arrived, taking the chance for his own breather. He wipes a hand across his face - fairly uselessly, as it mostly just smears the mud around. "Oughta go back t' where they come from," he continues to T'rev, just loud enough to be overheard. "Fort don't need no help from sharding Ista."
After a grin sent Laith's way for her needless relay of Mohraith's message, Nissa's shovelful lands with a plop. She's scooping another even while smirking in reply to T'rev and mock threatening to toss the load at him. She doesn't do it though, because yes, she does have some restraint. It might just be Hattie's approach and question, which has her peering at the stone ledge, "Who, the Istans?" She shakes her head. Could be either she doesn't know, or thinks that well, no they don't.
T'rev shoots Kai a look, a 'wtf' type of look. "Any help's appreciated," is what he says a little more loudly than the greenrider as his shovel clunks and thunks against stone under mud and he starts to scrape some of the muck away from what looks like another step on those stairs. "Gonna take a while longer to get this all cleared up and looks like there's all kinds of weird rock under here."
Well, someone has to start the mingling, and who better than M'try? "He's heartsick that she won't even say hello to him, ma'am," he reports rather suddenly, having had to jog a little to bring himself in line with the Istan Weyrleaders, the comment clearly meant for Nenita. It's soon followed by a polite, "Weyrleader, sir. Nice to see you." There's a very carefully swallowed 'again' in there, even while his eyes hit their shovels. "Might you direct a person where to collect one of his own?"
"Istans. Anybody," Hattie answers Vanissa, shrugging one shoulder and smirking just the tiniest bit. "If anyone does go exploring it, it'd probably need somebody light first. I don't really fancy fishing people from beneath rubble." That has her pausing and folding her arms across her chest, regarding the whole possible-stairs situation thoughtfully. "Shells, I /hope/ we don't end up fishing anybody from beneath rubble," she murmurs, shaking her head. "Need some more hands with that?" she calls over to T'rev and B'kaiv, close enough to not have to absolutely belt, eyeing those closest and en-route to the area.
At first it might seem like Ch'son is going to ignore what he overhears, keep on doing what he's doing. It's at least a couple of seconds before he says just loud enough to be heard right here, "A lot a shardin' Ista don't wanna be here helpin' Fort." He doesn't look at B'kaiv but he does turn a smile on T'rev, "And we'll all act happy 'bout it while we're here." M'try earns his attention long enough for him to say, "Sure." He doesn't get 'nice to see you's very often.
"I figured we wouldn't try to deplete Fort's shovel supply, so we brought our own." Nenita replies to the brownrider, ignoring his cute little comment from a moment prior. She waves a hand from M'try to the Istan Weyrleader and explains, "Ch'son, this is M'try." Like that name should ring some bells for him or something. When the bronzerider makes his own snide remark she takes a breath and turns completely towards the other person in their delightful trio. "You're pretty skinny, maybe you could go stand on the thing." She suggests while gesturing towards what Hattie and Vanissa are discussing. "You shouldn't collapse it."
Kai narrows his eyes at Ch'son's words and steps back, almost right into the other man's personal space and bypassing T'rev entirely. "Yeah? So maybe sharding Ista oughta go back home then, sit on th' beach again." His chin lifts, as though he's heard Hattie's words, but his eyes don't leave the foreign bronzerider.
Unsure, "Ain't it full of water Hattie? The lake's still awfully high..." Nissa's curious now, slogging in Hattie's wake to have a closer look. She disagrees with her wingmate lightly, "I'd like their help, Kai. My weyr's still flooded." It's the comment from Ch'son over there that has her pausing to glance his way, noting the other goldrider and M'try there as well. Both Istans are given a respectful salute. M'try's busy, but she smiles at him anyway, a smile that fades as B'kaiv gets all in the Istan Weyrleader's face. Not a word. No, she'll just shovel mud. Or something.
As decorously as he can manage, after his teeth click together with whatever he absolutely does not say-- Ch'son's big, M'try's not-- the brownrider answers to Nenita with a light, "That's well-thought courtesy on your part, Weyrwoman, and I'm sure our shovels appreciate the company." There's only the slightest stress on the shovels in that comment, soon followed by a long exhale. He could totally just seize on the opportunity to run off and put his skinny self to good use, but, with a subtle wince that's likely visible only to Nenita, he asks at his calmest, "And maybe Fort ought to be a little more gracious than to try to pick a fight with /visting Weyrleaders/, B'kaiv?"
T'rev remains visibly cheery still, not letting the undercurrents of tension deflate him as he scrapes a bit more mud off of that step. "Thanks for thinkin' ahead," the bronzerider says to Nenita, quite sincerely, half over his shoulder, seeing as he's bent to shift mud. Kai's move though, sees his shovel getting sunk into the mud, standing upright and he steps over to lay a hand on B'kaiv's shoulder. "Kai," he says simply, though there's a thread of something in his voice that might call back to when he did have the big knot. His next words though are lighter. "C'mon, man. Ain't the time or place."
Nenita has a similar wince when she hears the greenrider's approaching sloshes and his words. Turning slightly away from M'try, she levels a gaze on the pair behind her. The name 'B'kaiv' seems to produce a look of recognition fo her, as simple and tiny as it might be. "B'kaiv, B'kaiv. Hello, you know, I think that I know you. Not well, of course. But we've met before." She touches a finger to her temple, like she's having trouble remembering. "When I was a candidate, you came to Ista. I met you in the lower caverns, you were still a weyrling then. I think?" Her tone is light and pleasent, but not the look she gives Ch'son. The 'please don't' look.
"M'try." Ch'son repeats the name as though he has heard it before and that it's of some particular (unhappy) interest but, maybe fortunately for the brownrider, Ista's Weyrleader doesn't split his focus between him and B'kaiv. He's looking only at the greenrider now and that tension in his jaw is almost like he's biting back his quickly swelling temper. He ignores the words of caution the other is given but when Nenita speaks, whatever he might have said isn't. He stands his ground and arches a brow, a clear enough statement. He's not going anywhere. What're you gonna do about it?
"I mean that I don't want us to go pulling anything down by accident," Hattie murmurs to Vanissa, eyeing the edges of the bowl wall. She sticks by the greenrider's side, expression altering utterly as she reaches a halt. "B'kaiv. Back off," the weyrwoman states, voice low and features darkened even more than usual. "We're working together and if you can't deal with that, then you should find something else to do." Not very delicately, she raises her voice to be heard by anyone else shooting dark looks towards the riders from the foreign Weyr. "That applies to /everyone/. You want to pick a fight, I'm sure the Weyrleader will be pleased to have words with you all later."
B'kaiv seems more than happy to remain in Ch'son's face, despite the other Fortian's words, even Nenita's. Not until Hattie snaps does the edge of violence soften, and he only backs off after a 'this isn't over' narrowing of his eyes at the Weyrleader. "Don't remember," he admits to Nenita after a moment, sulky. He glances past the Istans at Hattie again, grunts sourly at everyone and no one, and retreats to Vanissa's far side just as if it was his idea to begin with, there to resume shoveling with increased vigor. Maybe he's pretending it's Istan mud?
There are plenty of people addressing B'kaiv's remarks, not that Vanissa would jump into anything being a lowly greenrider. She can talk to herself though! Under her breath, barely audible, she says with faint sarcasm, "That's right, piss off the help so they leave. I'll be homeless that much longer." It's hard to tear her eyes from the tableau, but she does long enough to eye what's left of the bowl wall above them and nod slowly in agreement with Hattie, "Yes. That'd be a mess. And painful." She'll just... help B'kaiv shovel.
Far from the truth, M'try says with effusive amiability, "I'm so glad I decided to do my civic duty and come down here, I can't even describe it." Scratching his forehead for a moment, brows knotted together, he combats a wholly frustrated expression to break into a smile, turning back to Nenita then. "What was it you were just saying, Weyrwoman? Something about offering me a leg-up?" With his chin tossed to indicate where the excavation's underway.
"That's a shame, I remember you. You were nice, I remember liking you." Nenita tells him, not one to just let something go like that. There's something like regret in her tone but she doesn't pursue him, watching with careful eyes as he moves away to return to the digging. She takes her shovel and pushes it into the mud, her foot following through with more force to push it below. "I'm sorry?" Like M'try just interrupted her train of thought she looks back to him, then to the excavation. "Right, a leg-up. Though," and now she glances down at her own figure. "I could probably do it too. Your weyr needs more small people." Which is somehow all his fault. Thumping Ch'son in the arm, "Try not to get in any trouble." The only warning he gets before she moves towards the heart of the excavation, shovel in hand.
As Kai desists, T'rev's hand drops away and he gives Nenita and Ch'son both a little nod, apologetic in quality, though he doesn't speak to the greenrider's behavior. He does however, shoot a glance Hattie's way briefly, before slogging back toward his shovel to pry it up out of the muck. The Istan Weyrwoman's approach lifts his head from that action however and he looks at the stair-to-nowhere with raised brows, politely holds out a hand. "Here, they're slippery."
Mood decidedly darker at this point, Ch'son glares after B'kaiv as the greenrider moves away, then takes a few moments to regather himself. The thump in the arm and the warning earn very little response. Since he's not exactly a small person, he sticks with what he's doing and throws himself back into the shoveling with renewed enthusiasm, grumbling to himself.
The junior hesitates a moment, aiming to rest a hand briefly against Vanissa's elbow like she'd apologize about the rain, the mud, the everything, then Hattie steps around to get a little closer to what's being uncovered. On her way, she reaches out, meaning to touch Kai's shoulder, accompanied by a quiet, "Thank you," though she doesn't seek to make more of it than that. She meets T'rev's gaze for the fraction of a second that she can, expression unreadable, then halts again, folding her arms. And then unfolds them, because it's not a brilliant idea to go doing that when you could slip over at any moment. "Let's try not to make mud-diving the event of the afternoon, huh?" she jokes when T'rev offers Nenita a hand.
M'try finds a grin in him somewhere, answering as if in innocence, "I'll give you a leg-up if you would prefer, Weyrwoman, though... I'm not so sure that I would trust me if I was you." So he nods, instead, to T'rev's offered hand before moving away from Nenita entirely to collect a shovel, grasping it like he's not really all that familiar with the implement. Hi, Shovel, how do you work? He shoots a quick look toward Vanissa, but-- even so armed-- he shies away from wherever B'kaiv's wound up.
B'kaiv settles in to shoveling, and contents himself with shooting dark looks at the whole of the Istan contingent rather than taking them all on. M'try probably gets a corner of one of those, and when T'rev offers his hand to Nenita the greenrider mutters something sour under his breath. Even Nissa probably can't catch it all - lucky for her. Instead, louder, "Hey Hattie - you think it's safe out there for you?" For /her/. He's not worried about anyone else.
"M'try? When have I ever really trusted you?" Nenita shoots back, a smile taking up the corners of her lips. The hand up from the bronzerider is taken as she and her shovel move up a couple of steps. She hits one that's particularly coated with mud and begins to clear it off. "I'll try, hopefully I won't die here at Fort. I'm not sure that would look good for diplomatic relations." She jokes, casting a glance down at Ch'son. Who may or may not have noticed exactly what she's doing up there yet. One step up.
Vanissa pauses her shovel-thrust at Hattie's touch, gives her a brief smile over her own discomfort with the tension in the air. She blinks past to those stairs, watching dubiously as Nenita approaches them. She sweeps a glance 'round, catches M'try's glance, shrugs stifling her own amusement at the glaring B'kaiv is shooting everyone. "Don't look all that safe to me." That's her two cents.
"Now I get that y'all don't really want us here, but I'm gonna get kind of pissed off if y' go killin' my Weyrwoman." Ch'son has ceased in his shoveling to watch this now, looking both amused and uncertain about putting the small goldrider at risk like this.
"Probably not," Hattie calls back to Kai, all wry cheer and smile. "But since when has anything like that stopped me?" This is the girl that went Between before being taught, after all. If she takes her clutchbrother's enquiry onboard, it only shows by just how quiet she goes for a few moments. "I don't think it's all that safe for anybody, really." Hence why she has her focus mostly fixed on Nenita. "Screw diplomatic relations," she declares. The horror! "Just don't sharding fall down, you hear?" Yes. This is Hattie's version of worry for somebody.
"I like to think," M'try says, finding some place that needs shoveling-- or that he thinks needs shoveling, which means it may or may not really /need/ it, but he sets to it anyway, "that there was a brief instant, before we'd actually spoken, when you might have thought I was a promisingly bookish young man." Speaking of bookish, he's pretty well puffing after a half-dozen scoops, murmuring as an aside to himself, "How long are we supposed to be at this, again?"
"Some kind of pissed?" Nenita repeats, turning back from her staircase cleaning to stare down at the Istan bronzerider. "You know, you really are a stunning example of a Weyrleader. What would I ever do without your support and backing?" There's an exasperated sigh for Ch'son (and alright, fine, a bemused smile too) before she shovels dirt off the next step. Moving carefully up to the next. Riders from the island contingent can only snicker at the back and forth. "I'll try not to, you know, this thing goes awfully high up?" Nenita hears some of that, gives M'try a look. "Yeah. Right. Maybe a little after, you know, when you were wearing that crown with the pretty jewels and all?"
T'rev gives Nenita a little nod as she takes his hand and he holds on as she heads upward until she resumes shoveling. "There won't be any killin' or dyin' here today if I've got anything t'say about it," the bronzerider says with a flicker of brows upward. "I can spot you," he offers to Nenita and therefore will wind up doing the gentlemanly thing and follows her up the stairs, still with his shovel in hand. "These actually feel pretty solid," he notes downward.
B'kaiv finishes filling a bucket and nods to the man who carries it away, stealing the moment to rest. His attention on the group over at the stairs, he tries and fails to seat his shovel in the mud; looks down and sets a foot on the blade to shove it in, staggering when there's a dull thunk. "--Huh," says he, and, "Think there's a rock, Nissa, be careful." Intrigued, he doesn't wait for a replacement bucket but resumes digging, aiming for depth rather than mud removal.
"Now now now," M'try counters, leaning on his shovel for a moment with his hand raking hair back off his forehead, leaving a little mud behind. Awesome. "That crown happens to bring out my eyes very nicely." Eyes that land for a second on T'rev at his assurance, and-- wiping his cheek with his shoulder in a raise of the latter to the former-- he adds another of those 'you can pretend not to have heard this if you'd like to' mutters; "I'm not sure I'd be making promises I can't keep." Ahem. This one meant to be heard, he lifts his shovel by the handle and drives it straight down again, striking hard just beneath the thin layer of mud, saying after B'kaiv, "It's a very big rock, in that case."
Most of this back and forth is going over Vanissa's head. There's a point where hazel eyes flicker between Nenita and M'try at that trust comment, tawny brows flicker upwards just a tic, a little further at the mention of him wearing a crown. Little headshake, not even gonna try to make sense of it, keeping her face nearly expressionless if she can. Lalala. She's just here to move mud and thus does so while keeping her mouth shut, even though it seems others might be into the proverbial mud-slinging. The warning from B'kaiv draws Nissa from her own thoughts, "Yeah? Alright." And she's working to deepen the angle of her digging as well.
"I am, aye," Ch'son says as though he's being very gracious. Never mind that grin (and those laughs) that suggest this is pretty standard. He watches for another handful of moments, then seems content enough that it's not all going to collapse and break his Senior to turn his attention out toward his other riders to make sure no one's being too idle with themselves.
Nenita stamps her foot against the stair under her feet, glancing down at the bronzerider now coming up there with her. "Yeah, it doesn't feel like it's going to collapse any time soon. How far up do you think...?" She trails off, the question hanging there. Steadily she continues to clean a path up there stairs, occaisonally glancing back for T'rev and at the people below. There's a lingering look that rests on Ch'son. But it's M'try that she ends up calling to, "Yeah, you looked very pretty!" She's getting a bit high up now, so it's probably not a good idea to keep yelling at people on the ground.
Given givens, it's probably not a good idea for Hattie to start up those stairs, and so she doesn't, not immediately at any rate. Perhaps she really has listened to B'kaiv despite her chirpy response. For the moment, she watches the progress of Nenita and T'rev and folds her arms again, only to immediately unfold them once more. Again. "If the stairs are steady, perhaps we all should...?" she suggests, still eyeing the stairs. "Safety in numbers? They don't look as if they're going to break."
"Couple rocks, maybe," Kai suggests to M'try before throwing a look sidelong at Vanissa. "Careful," he adds for no reason, letting the stair-climbers climb their stairs with neither assistance nor observation. He locates the edge of the rock and sketches out the edge before skimming mud from its top to reveal the stone itself.
Dragon> Let's just be grateful that he's elected to keep this comment at least partially on the down-low, right? Because he could totally share it with every dragon at Fort if he felt like it. << M'try says he'll tell people how pretty Nenita's cleavage was if she wants to talk about looks. >> (Mohraith to Safriath)
Vanissa's pretty much lost interest in the progress up those stairs. She's doggedly shoveling away determinedly minding her own business, expression remote. Lost in thought, apparently, she's keeping her head down and merely nods to B'kaiv, putting her efforts into helping him uncover the stone.
M'try watches what B'kaiv's doing for a second, kind of like wary, kind of like curiosity-- he wants to know, but he also wants to be sure he still has a head-start. Taking a cue, a quick-glance toward the stairs with a snicker for Nenita's comments-- yeah, too far to go shouting back-- he ducks his head and scrapes away the mud with the point of the shovel. "Couple big rocks," as now he's looking for his 'end.'
Cleanliness is the give-away that Kaida is only just making her way out of the caverns, but her clothing is rough: sturdy boots, heavy trousers, a faded and worn shirt. With her braid bound into a thick coil about her head, the knotless woman looks ready to work. Better late and willing than prompt and lazy? Picking her way past workers and scanning faces, it's Fort's Junior she approaches once she's managed to locate her. "Any place in particular that requires an extra set of hands, weyrwoman?" With a polite nod and only the faintest suggestion of a smirk for the nearby Ch'son.
Dragon> To Mohraith, Safriath must be pretty distracted that she actually bothers to respond to Mohraith before remembering how much she doesn't like him. It's almost sad how fixated she is on Nenita up those stairs, an overactive imagination projecting images of her rider tumbling down and cracking her skull open, breaking her neck, smashed to itty bitty Nenita pieces. << You're not funny. He's not funny. That staircase isn't funny. I'm cold. This place is muddy. I'm going to have to move mud soon! >> An image of dragons moving large amounts of mud on tarps, her and Elaruth specifically.
T'rev makes himself useful scraping off more mud and also pausing to anchor his shovel when Nenita's about to take the next step upward, hovering a hand nearby in case she needs to make a grab for something solid. "Looks like they go into the wall up there now we've got it mostly cleared off," T'rev remarks to Nenita during one of those pauses and he looks down below to the others, lets out a low whistle as the naked heads of those rocks come to light around where M'try and B'kaiv are digging. "Huh. Guess that's why the mud was all funny and uneven," he murmurs.
"Tragedy in numbers," Ch'son amends, ball of sunshine that he is. He taps at the last with his shovel, which he must think is just fine and won't somehow start up any sort of chain-reaction. That and it's possible he's a little distracted by the arrival of Kaida, looking at her like he knows he knows her but might be having trouble placing her.
Dragon> To Safriath, Mohraith can take a lot of abuse. He'd kinda have to, given his personality quirks, but he sulks dismally while he answers, << M'try's funny. >> There's the mental equivalent of a sniffle. << I'll move mud for you, >> like a sad kid hoping to get a second dessert.
Muddy, but minus a shovel, Hattie looks up at Kaida and smiles faintly, gaze then roaming about the area as she quickly checks up on the groups working nearby. "We seem to be discovering a lot of things around here, if they do turn out to be anything, that is. It would probably be a good idea to stick nearby if that's suit?" she responds, upon discovering that nobody is just standing about flinging mud at each other. Yet. "It needs moving from around here, anyhow. Unless you'd like to give those stairs a go?" she nods to where Nenita and T'rev are rapidly disappearing, from her vantage point anyway.
"Should we go in?" Nenita asks, looking questioningly back at T'rev as they approach that entrance. She scrapes some more mud out of the way and steps up, peering towards it. "Maybe we should get... something to see with in case it goes deep enough inside?" She anchors her own shovel down into a pile and looks past the bronzerider, down to the people below to see if there is in fact anyone else coming up there to aid in the staircase adventure. Thankfully, she's too far up in the air to see Kaida and Ch'son eyeing each other and jump to any awesome conclusions that probably include: You're a pig, stop sleeping with everyone and You're disgusting, damnit.
Vanissa works her way slowly across towards M'try. Someone's got to clear the mud between them and likely her doing it won't send the brownrider running the way B'kaiv moving towards him with (or without) a shovel would. Still silent, eyes on the ground, she doesn't even so much as say hello. Just digs.
Dragon> To Mohraith, Safriath leaves her perch on the bowl wall and descends to the ground below, arriving wherever the large tarps have come to be. << In your opinion. >> She remarks dryly, perhaps the focus on work to come has her relaxing and thinking so much: omg, my rider is going to die here. << You can help us, but I need to do this too. Try not to be so loud. >> It doesn't have its usual bite, there's even an encouraging mental nudge for him.
"Not without a torch or some glows," T'rev replies to Nenita about the direction the stairs are going, agreeing about light. "Don't think we gotta worry about bad air, but it'd be pretty unfortunate t'take a bad step in the dark and fall down some old hole," the bronzerider says bluntly. And the less said about anyone's bedding habits, the better in this case.
B'kaiv's being good: not only is he not throwing mud, he's not throwing anything. Yet. "Yeah," he agrees with M'try in a grunt. He continues working to find the edge of the rock - or rocks - slowly but steadily moving away from the other two.
Tilting her head, Kaida eyes the stairs with a heavy dose of mistrust. "Should anyone really be climbing them when they're still slick?" Since she's been given the choice, "I think I'll only risk bruising my ass, not breaking my neck. Pardon me, Weyrleader." So she can step past and get a shovel. She might be /amused/ to see him, but she's here to sling mud, not flirt.
"Any way you think we could get some? You know, without climbing all the way the fuck back down?" Nenita lifts her eyebrow at T'rev, with a weighty look given to the stairs they would have to traverse downwards. "This is one of those times I wish I had a firelizard or you know, a penchant for thinking things through ahead of time. Because I'd really prefer to not fall down some hole to nowhere, this isn't where I want to die. Believe it or not." Just some morbid humor.
Ch'son remains oblivious to any looks he's given from Nenita. He just moves a hand for Kaida to move past him and his gaze might follow her for a couple of steps before it's cast back up along the stairs. He doesn't go volunteering any of his own to fetch glows or anything so either he's not paying attention what's being said or he's just not going to offer.
<< I WASN'T BEING LOUD. >> That's clearly in response to something, thanks Mohraith, and the brown lifts his head to look for Safriath. His rider, totally trying to pretend he's not aware of anything the brown's doing, is quick with a smile for Vanissa, saying, "I would have thought you, of all people, would have had your fill of shoveling mud by now. Just can't get enough of it, or...?" Because he's being helpful and not just because B'kaiv and a shovel seems like a bad idea, M'try tends to be working vaguely along the edge of that big rock-shelf-thingy toward the bowl wall.
Dragon> To Safriath, Mohraith projects, << See? That was loud. >> Moral of the story: don't encourage him next time, silly gold. << Why do you gotta do it, doll? You don't even live here. >>
"Actually ... yes," T'rev answers with a laugh and lifts a hand to sweep through his hair. "Though I'm not sure if Trouble is really big enough to carry anythin heavy yet," the Fortian bronzerider says thoughtfully. "Mecaith's asking Elaruth to pass the word along. Hattie's Tilly can probably swing a basket of glows. Might as well take a little break while that's gettin' taken care of. Because believe it or not, I don't want you to die here either," he adds, teasing the Istan Weyrwoman a little.
It's several shovelfuls later that Nissa answers M'try without looking up. Her answer is short, evasive, "Tryin' to keep busy." Scraping along that rock, she steps around him and keeps on going, tossing the mud to a vague pile forming where others can cart it away.
Dragon> To Mohraith, Safriath's response is quick, it's that usual mental thwack that she gives to Mohraith anytime he shouts loudly in her mind when he's at Ista. << Try not to be too loud. >> That brief little glimpse of niceness disappears and she regroups herself into being mood and rather annoyed. Shifting around she waits for these tarp things to arrive so that she can help move dirt. << Because. I need to do something, I can't just sit her while she's up there. It isn't right. >>
Dragon> To Safriath, Mohraith projects, << No one's really gonna push her, doll. >> The fact that he feels this is important enough to distinguish is pretty damn telling, though. He really does mean this to be reassuring; << Chielyth's is too far away, and M'try would kinda miss her if she broke her neck. Relax. >>
Left to his own devices, Kai continues digging, his blade clunking into and scraping along the rock.
It's just as Elaruth leans to touch her nose gently to Mecaith's side before the pale queen unfurls her wings and drops down into the bowl, that Hattie goes distant and drags her attention away from stairs and rocks uncovered. Without explanation, she heads off, away from the excavation and through the mud, across to more of the bowl proper, following the flight-path of her lifemate. "Any dragons want to shovel mud - Elaruth and Safriath look to be organizing moving it," she calls, which explains where she heads off to, to deal with tarpaulins and things that dragon paws can't quite cope with alone. A short while after the junior has started sorting that situation, Tilly appears with the required glows and hands them off to T'rev and Nenita reasonably politely, but otherwise the weyrwoman stays to assist Fortian and Istan queen and anyone else they might have rounded up in the meantime.
Nenita's eyes take on a glazed look and it's a moment or two before she shakes her head, "Some of the dragons are going to help move dirt. Safriath included." She points down to where efforts to organize that seem to be occuring. "She's going to want a bath later." As far as taking a break, she doesn't need to be told twice. With an ungraceful 'oompf', she drops down onto the damp, muddy stairs and settles down. "Damn fin- That was quick." She mutters when the firelizard appears over their heads, handing the required glows off. "So much for resting." Using her shovel as a pick up, she pulls herself to her feet. (And her player waits for T'rev to come back from eating :P)
M'try pauses in between shovelfuls. Which he does kind of a lot anyway, so it's not that big of a deal, though this time it's specifically to give Vanissa an odd glance. "It seems to be working quite well for you," he quips, watching her splatters of mud outpace his in a way that really ought to be embarrassing. "Well then." Shovel, mud, splat. Shovel, mud, splat.
Dragon> To Mohraith, Safriath hadn't been thinking that, thanks. But now she is as she turns worried, whirling eyes on him. << You're not comforting, do you know that? I don't know what she sees in either one of you. Excuse me, but I have mud to move. >> She whips her head away, decidely not looking at him and waits for instructions on how exactly get hooked up to the tarps and move them.
"It's-" Nissa's voice sounds oddly strained, her comment (and shoveling -yay!) interrupted to listen to the announcement from first Hattie then Nenita. "Oh, they're gonna wind up knocking it into the lake, you watch. The level..." Her gaze shifts from the bowl where dragons are gathering to M'try with both apology and a little confusion in her eyes. "Ya been stuck with me a long time." She bends to sink her shovel into the mud once more.
Kaida locates a spare shovel, and on her way past (again) offers a conversational, "Congratulations on a healthy clutch, by the way." to Ch'son. If she also seems to be laughing silently at the Istan bronzerider, well, she is. Wary of falling debris, a moment is spared to consider the glop near the foot of the stairs, before she decides to keep going. Which brings her to giving B'kaiv the surprising offer of, "Shall I start on the other side, so you can actually get some leverage if it's not attached?"
Dragon> To Safriath, Mohraith, admittedly, << Yeah, I do know that. But I'd be good at moving mud if you'd let me help you! >> This-- this he believes firmly, and is just champing at the bit for the chance to go and get all muddy with a visiting queen. Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease.
Standing mostly idle at this point while all the 'little people' work their butts off, Ch'son watches Nenita and T'rev maybe a little closer than he really needs to. It doesn't keep him from turning his head, grinning and snapping off a lazy salute toward Kaida. "Thanks, gorgeous."
Dragon> To Mohraith, Safriath would be rolling her eyes if rolling them were possible. In a very human like fashion she turns to shoot a look at him and there's a mental sigh. << Fine. You can help me move mud. As long as you don't mention anyone pushing anyone else down any stairs while you're near me. Got it? >>
"Actually, from what I can gather," with M'try glancing uncertainly between Mohraith, Safriath, Mohraith, Safriath, then shaking his head busily and putting his eyes back on the mud underfoot, "they intend to haul the mud away. On tarps. Attached to queens. Behold, the protectors of Pern." Out of nowhere, "I wouldn't call it 'stuck with you,' personally, but that's quite a draft, isn't it?" His shovel roots around aimlessly for a moment while he searches for the source of said draft.
B'kaiv pauses again to narrow his eyes at Kaida, his face nearly obscured by mud and only a few streaks of more-or-less clean skin peeking out. He grunts agreement - or what could be taken as such - and bends for another shovelful; after that's cleared he adds actual words: "Yeah. Dunno how deep it goes. Pretty big, though." He sketches out a very rough square with a finger. "If you ain't got gloves, you should get 'em. Otherwise you're gonna blister." He has gloves, a ragged pair of thin wherhide, the seams splitting in a few places.
Dragon> To Safriath, Mohraith projects, << What if it was Nenita-- >> By name, even, someone's feeling uppity. Probably just because Safriath's talking to him at all, woo~! << --pushing M'try down the stairs? We could talk about that instead. >>
Dragon> To Mohraith, Safriath projects, << Nenita does not want to push him down the stairs. >> Though it sounds like someone else in this conversation might not be feeling as nice as Ista's Weyrwoman. But she keeps it tightly under wraps, no images of the brownrider tumbling down the stairs to land face down in the mud- Whoops. Okay, maybe a little of that is projected. And if there's some possiveness regarding Mohraith using her rider's name outloud, she locks it down without commentary. Though it's there, under the surface. >>
"Yeah, Mecaith mentioned, he's gonna help too," T'rev tells Nenita and then eyes the lake. "Sorry the lake's a mess here, though the water's warmer back Ista way anyhow," the bronzerider says and leans against the wall to wait on incoming glows, which then arrive much more quickly than expected. "Well hey, guess you can train them pretty well," is his take on that and he starts to offer Nenita a hand up, but she grabs the shovel and he shoots her a quick grin. "Ready to dare the dark?" Safriath and Elaruth are organizing and Mecaith finally drops down to join in the earthmoving fun at some unheard signal.
"Oh." Nissa should look relieved at that, really she should, that the lake level will not be rising, might even drop. Busily trying to load as much mud onto her shovel as she can, she avoids looking back at M'try, but her eyes drift towards those stairs for a moment when she says with a touch of uncertainty, "Oh ya wouldn't?" But draft, oh yes! "I... guess? Is it coming from down...?" Kneeling in the mud, she reaches a hand towards the hole he's digging. "That's wierd."
Nenita grins crookedly at the belatedly offered hand, shooting yet another look down at the ground. Safriath helping with the mud removal has her eyebrow lifted with amusement, though less of that is transfered to Mohraith nearby. Her gaze drifts along the groups digging dirt, slowing on some individuals before she shakes her head. "Ready. I'll let you know if I'm afraid of the dark once we get inside. I promise not to cry or anything." She glances past him to wall, "Really."
Dragon> To Safriath, Mohraith seems surprised by this. << Really? Most people do. >> So the image of M'try getting all bludgeoned? Not all that arresting for him.
Dragon> To Mohraith, Safriath shares in the surprise. << Really. Go figure. >>
"The whole thing is weird," M'try agrees promptly, some of his quirky humor owing to the fact that Mohraith is, in fact, over there helping an Istan queen remove mounds of Fortian dirt from the bowl. Shaking his head to clear it, he starts digging around experimentally, ever the 'look before he leaps' type.
"Okay, and y'know, just grab my arm if you're feelin' unsettled," T'rev quips with another merry grin and uses his shovel to slough off a bit more of the stuff so it's not quite so slippery up here, then rests it against the wall again. "Onward, Weyrwoman," he says gaily, glow basket lifted high, as he continues up the stairs and into the bowl wall.
The big greenrider narrows his eyes again but nods once the gloves are produced, adding another grunt. "Be flamed if I know," as he bends once more to the work. "They just said 'come dig', and I'm digging. Ain't got no idea where all this mud," he stomps demonstratively, "coulda come from, much less no rocks."
T'rev heads up the stairs
There's a sort of slump in the mud they're digging in and since Nissa's on her knees, she hasn't time to scramble back when the whole lot just gives way and drops out from underneath. The greenrider tries throwing herself backwards and away from it, but she's being carried with it. It all happens so quickly, she twists, flings out a hand to well, drag M'try to his death maybe?
The Istan Weyrleader barks out a laugh and he finally moves away from his staircase vigil to moves out closer to where Kaida has found a place to work. "Meant it then, too. You move recently or?" Ch'son's tone is definitely along the lines of 'why are you hanging out with /this/ group?'
M'try could totally flail backward to safety. He could. He might actually be trying to, for a second, but it does all happen pretty quickly, and he falls right on down after Vanissa. Next on your daily dose of metaphor...