OOC: Log
Southeastern Bowl
This area of the bowl is the highest point of the bowl floor; from here, it slopes down and to the northwest, spilling out to the plateau below the wide gap in the Weyr rim to the west. Various tunnels here lead into the Weyr's inner caverns; the living caverns, hatching grounds, and main Weyr tunnel all branch off from here. To the west lie the stables where the Weyr's runners are housed. There is also a stone stairway that leads up to the Weyrleader's weyrs.
It is a spring before dawn.
Perched on rocky crags about the bowl are four firelizards.
Bronze Nhamarath, brown Morath, bronze Bralath, brown Xylyth, blue Aeokaith, green Kitiarath, green Iredith, brown Ftoranth, bronze Nverath, and Brown Dsalth are here.
You see Gritty-Grassy Green Handprints, Samurai, and Risha here.
Obvious exits:
Ground Weyrs Hatching Cavern Central Bowl Stables Weyr Tunnel Living Caverns
From his seat between pinstriped, stately neckridges Dsalth may be old and saggy (and turning more grey than brown these days) but he can still be intimidating. To a point. The brown stands tall and proud, chest puffed, head angled down glaring at a small green dragon who seems to be more focused on chewing sloppily on a forepaw than anything else. "I'm telling you, son, you let that green bugger of yours do whatever she shelling well pleases and it has to stop! Not collecting your own girlfriend and daughter from the bowl at night is an example!" Purr seems to be similarly standing over a lanky, long raven-haired slouch who is always chewing a fingernail. Like dragon, like rider. "Pa...do I have to tell you again, she's -not- my girlfriend?" is all K'rru can respond with. Oh, fun family times.
Stately. Now there's a dragon with posture.. Though Minka's gaze does eventually drop down to the slobbering green, frowning some. She heads that way, really on an errand. Well, actually more to overhear the fun family times, aka gossip that she can eavesdrop upon. With her basket firmly sat upon her hip, she walks with a distinct sway past there, managing to look only a little eager to listen in if anything. Her free hand sits proudly on her plump hip, ample bosom also cushioning the solid edge of the basket against her. A stray wind, effectively enough, picks up, coursing through the bowl momentarily. It manages to lift the towel clean off the top of the basket, greens and fruits exposed to the elements. The towel, conveniently enough, lands at the foot of K'rru, wrapping itself about his ankle. Minka, of course, looks mortified, "Oh dear." Her rounded butt soon gets into gear, the candidate toddling off to stoop at the foot of K'rru, "Oh excuse me."
From his seat between pinstriped, stately neckridges K'rru bends down to pluck up the towel, folding it in his hands messily. "Well, well well.." the young man drawls with a hint of leer. Which simply has his father clucking his tongue in disgust "Boy, you'll be the death of me" he grumps before turning to look down his nose at Minka. "So, pet, ignore K'rru. And that creature of his.." True, the green has swaggered her way from beneath Dsalth's gaze and now, drooling and wheedling, approaches the group from behind her own rider. "K'rru give her the towel. And stop being a sot. You should go and take that babe of yours for the day, faranth knows Angi needs a break. As does Kezzra. And myself. And your little sister." Purr turns to growl at his son who leans nonchalantly against Pirateth's side. What a lazy pair they are. "Anyway, pet, sorry, your a candidate aren't you, lass? I've seen them coming in at all sorts of hours now. Fingers crossed it's one of Kwazarenth's that likes you not Ciciath's.."
Was that a leer? An eavesdropper she might be, but not a girl who puts up with rudeness, "Well I never. That look on your face is quite unbecoming." Chubby chin is stuck out petulantly, "I'll have that, thankyou." And upon receiving enough of a permit from P'rru, she reaches out podgy fingers and simply snags it, tucking it back over her basket of goodies. Turning, she smiles to him, blatantly ignoring the uber rudeness that is K'rru right now, "Minka, the name is. Pleased to meet you." She offers a hand, scootching the basket up on her hip a little higher, "And yes, that's what this unfortunately bland knot seems to qualify me as." Her gaze is quickly thrown to her shoulder, a brief inspection of the white loop carried out. Upon returning her gaze to P'rru, she comments, "So I've heard. Seems everyone's quite anxious about themselves. And considering all the rumours I've heard flying about the barracks.." Pausing, she asks, "So, what is ... Why's all the fuss about Ciciath's eggs?"
From his seat between pinstriped, stately neckridges P'rru takes the candidate girl's hand neatly, politely for a touch. "I'm P'rru, this fine fellow is Dsalth and yes, my son K'rru and Pirateth." (Pirateth is now blinking through stupor'd eyes at Minka while her rider picks food from between his teeth with no show of doing as his father's bid) The brownrider barely flickers a glance at his son, as if he's rather pleased for some distraction. "Well there's no real fuss from me but a dragonet doesn't fall far from it's dam, you know. And even though this green...monstrosity is simply an exception to the rule...Kwazarenth is a far better queen than Ciciath ever was, and Iri a damn fine weyrwoman. So it's simply my good wishes for you, child, that you be in contention for the former's rather than the latter's..." Purr verbosely explains to the candidate. He neatens his jacket as Dsalth comes to peek over at Minka (and finding her Not Interesting then retreats to sprawl in the sun) before continuing "In any case, I do hope the barracks aren't too cold, or too stuffy either for you. And that you take better care of towels in the future." Though this may sound gruff on paper, he softens it with a charming smile and a wink.
“I see.” Minka spares a glance over to the green first, then back to the stately brown. Straightening a little, she comments, “Well then I would have to agree with those sentiments, hopefully should it happen at all - it be from one of Kwazarenth’s.” The name is said, slower compared to the rest of the sentence, Minka a little concerned of the pronunciation. Seeing that K’rru is offering no part to the conversation, the food-flicking is given not even a glance. (Though, be warned. Should a piece of saliva-coated wherry arrive on Minka’s arm, there’ll be a fuss indeed.) A little curious, she queries, “So, if you don’t mind me asking, just why is Ciciath so awful?” Juicy tidbits, please! Gossip to share with Sorcha is a must-have after a day of chores, “And rest assured, I’ll keep a much closer watch on my towels from this moment on.” She pats it, absent-mindedly tucking in a corner on the far edge of the basket, “The barracks, actually, I’ve found, aren’t all that bad. After the initial shock of meeting some filthy young men, I’ve grown quite accustomed to it.” Plus, there’s a hairy boy who isn’t too bad. Even if he’s got a monobrow.
From his seat between pinstriped, stately neckridges "Well one does have to worry with a queen dragon whose rider is long passed. She'd not be in the right frame of mind for eggs, and who knows what dragonets eek from their dams while they are still shelled..." Purr suggests, shoulders relaxing as conversation still circles away from his son. "Plus, Dsalth just doesn't like her one bit. Kwazarenth on the other hand, so much like her own dam, a lovely, lovely dragon. If a bit headstrong but that's what a weyr needs, Minka, good direction..." K'rru snorts at this, slumping to sit on the ground and lean against his own dragon's belly. Drool from Pirateth's slack-jawed maw strings to hit his greasy black hair. "Aye, young boys are awful creatures, pet, so you stay clear." Purr goes on, raising a finger "And whose that lad with only one eyebrow? I saw him dashing through the caverns yesterday, and I had to double-take.I honestly think someone should have told him about that turns ago..." So the old man's still got a sense of humour.
Minka looks up towards P’rru, “Oh I see.. I’d heard snippets here and there of what had happened, but not the straight truth from anyone. Guess it’s my own fault for consulting unreliable sources.” Well, the girls in the barracks, “And then there’s that whole issue on Ciciath’s wish for only male candidates? Seems so odd.” The basket is now plonked down on the ground, Minka rubbing at the red mark left on her arm where the handle managed to rub on her travels, “Is she? I wouldn’t know.” She continues rubbing, a sour look spared for K’rru - and a similar one of disgust following the path of drool down to K’rru’s hair. Must. Refrain. From insulting. Holding her tongue, and looking a little nauseated by the sight, Minka returns to P’rru, “Yes, plus when I arrived I was on of the first women.” That speaks for itself, considering that they all acted as if it were the first time they’d seen a woman. Almost as if reacting to this thought, Min crosses her arms across her chest. P’rru’s next comment draws a laugh, “I believe you’d be speaking of Phrederick. Hairy young lad from the Telgar regions. Nice though.” Once you get past the chest hair and gruff manners.
Caoimhe walks in from the Living Cavern.
Caoimhe walks in looking about curiously. Her stroll seem to have brought her here. Now if she could just figure out where here was. She spins around trying to find some idea to where she wandered to. She notices Minka and decides to head over for a conversation and mayhaps something more. She smiles sweetly as she approaches trying to ascertain if she is interrupting anything.
From his seat between pinstriped, stately neckridges "Oh who knows what a crazy old queen like Ciciath will demand of us next, pet.." Purr comments with a shrug. "But Phrederick is that one? My word, he needs older sisters or something. Perhaps you should say something, about that hairy forehead of his. Maybe no-one has..." suddenly the brownrider seems distracted, leaping forward to slap Pirateth's oozing muzzle out of the way. A loong dragon-spit string lands with a squelch on the ground, neatly missing K'rru's head. The greenrider wrinkles his nose "Aww, good one Pa!" The brownrider just shakes his head tiredly. "See, Minka? Don't impress green. You might get an oozey poor excuse like this one. Thank faranth she's a little ripper in threadfall.." Maybe that a bit of pride speaking there.
Minka nods in response to the notion of Ciciath. She pauses, then comments on Phrederick's grooming (or lack there of), "I think I will. Even do it for him myself, if need be. I can't really remember what he said about his siblings, though I do know they'd most likely be at Telgar. Not here." She grins, "I don't think anyone has really said anything, but surely .. The looks, you know." Her voice drops, lowering to a confiding tone. Though Caoimhe's approach is spotted, Minka turning, "Oh, hello there." She offers a grin, clearly recognising this face, "You're Caoimhe, aren't you?" She narrows her gaze a little, offering, "I heard another candidate addressing you as such, so forgive me if I'm wrong." She manages to return to the scene before her just in time to catch the next glob of drool hang from Pirateth's jaw, moving back a touch, "Is drooling a common trait in greens, really?"
Caoimhe smiles at Minka with a bob to P'rru as well. She shirks back from Pirateth as the drool becomes evident. "Yes, I am Caoimhe. You're Minka right?" She looks quickly between the two. "I do hope I am not intruding. I wouldn't want to that. If I am I can leave. I mean you have private business to discuss I wouldn't want to bother or anything." Caoimhe bites her lip nervously as she tries to figure out what the conversation was about before she entered. "Uh...Dragon drool very interesting stuff."
Turning away from the drooling green, Minka offers a hand to Caoimhe, "Yes, I'm Minka. Nice to meet you." The plump girl returns the look with a grin, guesturing towards the two bickering riders, "Oh trust me, you aren't interrupting a thing. I think /I/ did however. The cloth covering my basket of fruit and such got swept up and tangled upon one's shoe." She laughs a little at that, picking up the said basket and hitching it up on her hip, "We were just chattin about .. Well, yes, drool. But, Ciciath and the eggs, things like that. Nothing too entertaining." Seeing the two have gotten back into an argument, Minka gestures towards the caverns, "Fancy going in for a drink, I've just go to take this to the caverns then I'm ready to have breakfast." Smiling, Minka starts heading back towards the caverns, calling, "Come on," to Cao.
You go into the living cavern.
Living Cavern
The smooth, rounded walls cavern sweep upward from an oval base, two dragonlengths long and one wide, large enough to seat every member of the Weyr at mealtimes. The soft blackness of the lava which forms these caverns swallows glowlight, so shelves for glowbaskets abound, dotting the walls every three or four paces and casting gentle greenish light toward the sparkles of gold volcanic glass embedded in the ceiling. Ancient, lustrous tables run along the axis of the cavern, and at the far end rests the raised dais and high table, where Weyrleaders and honored guests eat during formal occasions. Behind the high table, the Weyr's symbol is embedded into stone: a smoking mountain in black on... [look closer]
Perched near the food are twenty-seven firelizards.
You see Tray of Meat Rolls and Cookies and Firelizard Tapestry here.
Obvious exits:
Northeast Caverns Kitchens Bowl Southern Caverns
Caoimhe walks in from the Southeastern Bowl..
Caoimhe smiles as she walks to the caverns glad to have some company for the meal. "Do you get along with many of the candidates?" Caoimhe peers at Minka shyly as her eyes glance over the food. "It is so big to imagine all of us got chosen to stand. It's all so intense you know. All from different backgrounds gathered for this one meeting." Caoimhe giggles slightly. "I guess I'm just nervous, but listen to me sounding like a little child making a big decision. It's all so very silly. Everyone seems so nonchalent about it I guess I should be too."
Minka looks over to Caoimhe, "Some of them. Sorcha, for instance. She's from the Hold too, so we've know each other some time. And Phrederick, he's quite nice too." Moving into the kitchens momentarily, she deposits the large basket at the door. On her return she manages to stop at the breakfast bar, snagging up a plate and piling it would fruit. She moves back towards Cao, settling at a table. The tabletop is tapped with a finger, "Come and sit. You aren't being silly, I daresay the vast majority of candidates would feel the same." She pauses, shuffling into her seat further, "And yes, I'd agree. There are people here from absolutely all over the place. High Reaches, even one from Grinstead of such I'd heard. Are you liking it?" She snags a piece of melon from her plate, promptly eating it, "And how are you doing with the others? Candidates, that is. What do you think of them?"
Caoimhe quickly picks up a plate and a view choice items before settling next to Minka. She picks idly at her view as if considering it before eating. She nods at Minka's overview of the candidates and smiles a little at her reassurment. "It is nice to be at the weyr. I didn't often get the chance to visit. It's a little strange sharing a bedroom with so many people and animals, but I think I will get used to it eventually." Caoimhe shuffles her feet as she bites her lip before nibbling on her food. "Well the ones from the weyr are very nice though I think most of the candidates are a few turns younger than me. I'm a little shy around them." Caoimhe smiles lightly. "I think many of them will make very good outgoing riders. Oh I am sure you will too though I don't know you that well."
Minka continues selecting various pieces from the fruit mix before her, "It is. I guess I had the same thing at the Hold, but the men and women were segregrated to some degree. Which was a bit of a blessing, but I'm not finding living with men too difficult at all." She grins at the comment on outgoing riders, "Ah, perhaps. Perhaps not, but I do agree there are a few stirrers in the bunch. Have you met that Lynzi girl, she's got quite the sharp tongue on her, that one." Minka nods, as if confirming her own point, another piece of melon daintily chewed, "And thankyou, I think the same of you - though don't ask me what a dragon looks for on the sands, wouldn't have a clue what separates who from who." Her plate is readily finished off, Minka commenting, "So, where were you before this? Hold, craft?"
Caoimhe nods and smiles lightly. She picks up a piece of fruit examining in carefully before munching on it lightly. "I really haven't had a chance to talk to Linzi. I did have a nice chat with Neana she's one of the sisters I believe." Caoimhe chuckles lightly. "Some of N'ano's spawn I believe." Caoimhe smiles wistfully. "I actually ironically enough had a chat with Rylen before I was plucked up by Dea and he seems like a very nice guy." Caoimhe smiles proudly as her origins are asked about. "I was a little bit of both. Baker at Ista hold actually. Bakers are a crazy craft of its own without a main hall for training."
Minka grins, "Just be careful with Lynzi, she's a cranky thing." Min shakes her head, "Not a clue why, though." She drags her fork about her plate, tapping it on the edge absent-mindedly, "Neana? I think I met her, yes. She's related to young Kiano, one of the first of the Weyr's residents I've become acquainted with." She grins at the 'spawn' comment, "So I've heard, apparently half the candidate class is related in some way through them." The wistful smile draws a glance, "Rylen? Yes, seems to have caught the eye of a few of the girls around. He's a handsome young man, but I'm afraid he's a little too young for me." There's her own wistful sigh there, "Bakers, really? Interesting. Did you enjoy it a lot? I guess it's something you could take up here if you were so inclined."
Caoimhe nods thoughtfully. "Thanks for the warning. I'll keep that in mind if I ever run into her." Caoimhe blushes at the thought of Rylen's good looks. "He is a smooth one too. He seems to know exactly what to say to make a girl knees melt." Caoimhe shrugs. "That is just my observation though I could be completly wrong it's been known to happen." Caoimhe beams as she remembers her Baker companions. "I did love the Bakers a lot with the cooking." Caoimhe wrinkles her nose as she continues. "The cleaning gets a bit tedious but I love baking, and cooking, it's so creative and imaginative." Caoimhe nods lightly at Minka's observation. "The Baker Master is actually posted up here so it would be more pressure to bake at the weyr.
Minka grins, "Ah, she's not so bad. Just a bit of a sour one, that's all." She stands up, grinning at the comment, "Yes, he's got all the right moves, doesn't he. Good manners too." Minka's lips twist into an unreadable quirk now, the candidate glancing towards the barracks, "I've got laundry duty, so I'll have to head off. I'll see you back at the barracks tonight most likely, if not earlier." Fingertips reach down to smooth off her work apron somewhat, Minka depositing her plate back up to the kitchenhand, then walking back past the table again, "See you later, Caoimhe."