Twenty Questions

Xanadu Weyr - Craft Complex

The large area has been separated into a variety of smaller sitting areas, couches and chairs organized into rings and squares, tables set where they can be used easily. A few desks for studying are pushed against one wall, while another has a variety of doors spaced along side it, opening into private quarters for the ranking crafters posted at the weyr. A set of double doors opens to the general apprentice dorms, and a long hallway stretches outwards, providing access to the various workshops.

Moria is seated in one of the smaller sitting areas in the complex, a book of sketches open on the table before her beside a mug of klah. Her distant look suggests she has completely forgotten whatever she was doing, one hand propping her chin up and eyes staring off into space. A few other crafters are moving about the complex, doing various chores and duties as they need to.

Juggling some pieces of … something. Looks like spare parts? Maybe? D'son steps through the door and promptly drops a piece with a loud clatter. "Shells!" the bronzerider exclaims and starts shifting bits and bobs under his arm so he can bend to retrieve the piece of metal.

Moria jerks in suprise at the clatter and oath, very nearly knocking over her klah mug as she straightens. Barely managing to stop it before it tip, she still sloshes some klah on her hands. Making a face at the small mess, Ria turns toward the entrance to find out what the noise was. Catching sigh of D'son her's frown eases slightly, and she pushes back her chair, moving to approach the awkwardly burdered bronzerider. "Need a hand?" she calls, rough voice tired but clearly audible.

Still doing the awkward, don't-drop-more, bendy thing, D'son looks up slightly startled in turn and bobbles the armload. "Oh shells, yeah, thanks. I think I bit off more than I could … well not chew, because chewing this stuff would uh — hurt." And Dels laughs suddenly. "I'm babbling! Anyway, hi there. Yes, a hand over to a work table would be good, thanks."

Moria manages a small smile for D'son's babbling as she nods her understanding, wiping the bit of klah on her hands off on her pants before bending to scoop up the fallen item. "How much of this can I safely take without making anything else fall," she asks, looking at the odd collection dubiously. "I want to help, not make a bigger mess," she adds absently as she regards the rider and his burden.

"Ummm those three top pieces and the one I dropped?" D'son says with a look up at the young woman and smiles again. "I'm um, well I'm going to try to build something, finally," the bronzerider claims with a laugh. "How're you doing?"

Moria nods, carefully extracting the indicated pieces and balancing them in her arms. "Does that work?" she asks, stepping out of the way so D'son can lead to the table if his load is stable. "What are you building?" she inquires, curiosity bringing her face to a more aware appearance. "Uhm, I guess I'm alright."

"Great, thanks so much!" D'son says as he straightens back up and heads for a vacant table, lets pieces tumble to its surface. "Probably sounds weird, but a different kind of water filter and purifier," Dels replies, eyeballing all those bits and bobs. "Shells it's going to feel good to put stuff together again." He looks back up at Moria, brows lifting. "You guess so?"

Moria mmms softly, trying to sound like she has a clue what he is talking about. "Are the current kind not effective, or just too hard to maintain, or what?" she asks, setting the pieces she carried beside the new mess on the table. But hey, it's controlled chaos, right? "I didn't know you built things before you were Weyrleader. I supposed I really don't know anything about who you were before becoming Weyrleader here," she admits. His question has her shrugging evasively, glancing down at the table without answering. "So, are you a tech crafter?"

"Oh well, I think it's perfectly fine, but I had an idea and I want to see if it works," D'son explains and starts sorting the metal pieces by size and apparently, metal-type. "Technically, I didn't," Dels answers that question. "Well I did, but not in an official capacity. I never actually wound up apprenticing at the smithcraft," he continues and pauses with a long tube in his hand. "No, but I'm interested in that too, you know, now that I have time again." That shrug tilts his head curiously but he doesn't pry. "So … what do you want to know? If you do, I mean."

Moria gives a more natural smile as she listens, nodding slowly. "I can understand wanting to just try an idea. I've ended up with a lot of odd projects because of that desire," she agrees. She moves out of the way so D'son can move around the table if needed. "Do you plan to apprentice, since you are no longer Weyrleader? I mean, you said you have time again…" she trails off, looking flustered, and shakes her head. "Sorry, I don't want to pry, I just realized that all I've ever known you as is a Weyrleader, and it's a bit odd to have that change. I'm not used to Xanadu without you as Weyrleader, does that make sense?"

"Yeah? What kind of projects?" D'son asks with enthusiasm, continuing to sort through his 'treasure'. "Yes," the former Weyrleader answers definitely about apprenticing. "I want to see how well I place and all that. And you know, Smith or Tech, tough choice. I wonder if they'd let me do both?" He pauses in the sorting, pondering, then blinks at Moria and smiles. "Sure. Hard to drop all the sir-bit and all. And I'm not even a wingleader either," Dels says with a laugh as he starts clustering together some smaller pieces. "Maybe we can play a game of twenty questions? Might make it more fun?"

"My most recent project has been trying to make glass orbs with stuff /inside/ them, which has been a bit awkward," Moria answers. "I'm trying to make some with colored sand in layers inside, for decorations, but I can't get them sealed without sand ended up adhered to the closing glass. It's been very frustrating." The crafter seems much more at ease as they discuss familiar subjects. "I don't know why they wouldn't let you cross-craft, eventually. Probably wouldn't let you do it right away, though. Probably start you with the smiths to confirm a sound understanding of the sciences behind the tech work, and go from there?" she suggests, pulling a stool over to perch upon and watch D'son's work. "Twenty questions? About what?" she asks as she settles onto the chair, raising a brow.

"That sounds really cool!" D'son says, bright-eyed. He's a lot more casual and down-to-earth without that big knot. Not that he was all that imposing as Weyrleader but he did adopt a more formal manner for the most part. "Huh and there's no way to protect the opening from the falling sand?" he queries with interest, pieces just about all set though he seems to be considering where to put a short, stubby … something that looks like copper. "Yeah, something like that," he says cheerfully about the cross-crafting. "I mean, I know I have the smith side down pat." The lump is finally set down with other coppery bits and Dels leans his hip against the table. "Anything. The only rules are that we each get twenty questions and that we have to answer truthfully. We take turns, back and forth."

Moria shrugs slightly, watching D'son's sorting with clear interest. "The problem is that the sand has to be packed in pretty tightly to keep it from swirling around inside and getting all mixed up, and the seal is on the bottom, to make a flat surface. So I am applying hot glass very, very close to the sand, and it is extremely difficult to avoid touching it at some point and getting sand in the glass," she explains. "I might have to start making the seal at the top instead and leaving a little extra room for clearance, but it won't look as good." She sighs, clearly frustrated by this step of her project. "How about you start with the questions? I have no idea what to ask," she says. "Maybe your question will give me an idea."

"Huh, hope you get it figured out," D'son says though he has the look of someone with wheel turning in his mind. "Maybe I could watch you try it sometime? See if I get any ideas? I mean I'm not a glasscrafter, but problem solving is problem solving, right?" Her suggestion earns another grin. "Sure, they can be pretty ordinary things, like, what's your family like?"

Moria shrugs again, though she smiles this time. "Sure, why not? A different perspective certainly can't hurt, and you may think of something that no glasscrafter would," she agrees. "My family? Well, I'm kind of the odd child out in my family. Everyone else is either a seacrafter or a woodcrafter. Everyone but my younger brother, Rished, is at Black Rock Hold. Rished moved to Xanadu a few months ago from Landing, since he earned his senior apprentice knot…" She trails off, thinking. "Is there anything specific you want to know? We're a pretty normal group of people, really."

"Smiths and dolphineers in my family," D'son answers with a little wry grin and pulls a small handheld out of his back pocket, sets it down on the table and pulls up something on the screen, starts looking through the stuff he's got on the table for a suitable piece. "I'll ask again next after you ask your question, one at a time," Dels says with another smile for the glasscrafter.

Moria hmms softly, thinking this over before she poses a question. "Why have you stayed at Xanadu since Kilaueth's flight?" She pauses, then clarifies her question. "You came here from Ista, as I understand things, so why stay here instead of going back to Ista, or even going somewhere else, like the SmithHall?"

Moria nods as she listens, her face showing her understanding. "I came to Xanadu to study under a master glassblower here, Erdwin. I've made a number of friends here and it would be very hard to leave here voluntarily. If I was re-posted I would go, but so long as I am not needed elsewhere, I am very happy to stay here. I can understand what you mean when you talk about a lot of the people you care about being here." She fingers her sleeves absently, nodding again. "You're turn to ask a question, right?"

"He must be pretty good, yeah? You know, this filter could wind up needing some glass parts," D'son says thoughtfully, looking down a the handheld again which likely holds a schematic. "Yeah, so are you living with your brother here?" He's starting to assemble what looks kind of like a framework of pieces by now, referring back to the diagram now and then.

"He is pretty good," Moria agrees, grinning easily. "Erdwin really knows a lot about glass blowing. I've learned a great deal from him since I moved here." She shakes her head then. "Rished lives in the apprentice dorms. My room isn't big enough for both of us. He seems to have adjusted pretty well to living here, at least. I know my mother is relieved to have him closer than Landing again. He's the youngest, and even though he is seventeen she still considers him her baby." Moria leans forward to look at the diagram, glancing between it and the framework. "If it does, let me know. If I can't make them, I'm sure someone here can."

"Yeah, it seems like sometimes it's rough for holdbred to adjust to the Weyr," D'son says mildly. "And shells, Landing. I love Landing," he says with a sheepish laugh. "Your turn for a question and thanks, I'll let you know," with a tap to the diagram. Then he's fishing in his pocket for twine and lengths of leather. "I'm just framing out the general idea right now. I'll need to actually melt things down and solder to make the real deal."

Moria stiffens a little at D'son's first sentence, grimacing without thinking about it. "Yes, it can be," she agrees. "Landing is beautiful. I spent almost eight years there at the Glass Craft hall attached to the University," she says. She looks at the twine and smiles. "Better to test it before you solder it an can't make any changes," she agrees. "My turn, huh? Uhm… what is your favorite place here at Xanadu?"

"Hey - that's not a criticism," D'son says, noting the stiffening. "Just seems to be a fact of life," the bronzerider continues and lashes two pieces from the table. "Exactly, measure twice, cut once," Dels says with a wink and considers her question for a moment. "The ridge, above the meadow, I think. I like how the wind blows up there. The beach is nice too, mostly because I'm from an island and I do miss the ocean sometimes."

Moria shakes her head, trying to relax and failing. "I wasn't thinking it was a criticism. As I said, it can be very true," she says, her rough voice tense. "But that's neither here nor there. Anyhow, I don't think I've been up on the ridge. I know where you are talking about - I've seen it - but I've never found the time to go up there. My favorite is probably the hot springs. I love soaking after working all day near the hot forges and kilns."

"Oh, okay," D'son says, though he's regarding her curiously for the continued tension. Opens his mouth to ask something, then lets it be as she goes on. "Want to go up sometime? If you've got time after I finish tying this up, could even go in a bit," Dels offers in friendly fashion and his head bobs. "Yeah. I'm used to those though, grew up with them, hot springs." He considers for a moment before asking his next question. "If you weren't a glasscrafter, what would you do?"

Moria seems relieved when D'son doesn't press the issue, settling back a little to give herself some space. "I appreciate the offer, but I have some things I should have finished this morning that I need to take care of later." She motions to the table where her sketchbook and abandoned klah mug remain, undisturbed since the craft complex isn't too busy just now. "If I hadn't discovered the glasscrafters at Black Rock Hold, I would probably have gone ahead and joined the woodcraft. I knew I wanted to make things, and I get seasick, so the seacraft wasn't a good fit for me." She pauses and grins. "And since I already know you would have gone for either the smith or tech crafts before you Impressed, I'll go ahead an pose my question. What was it liked to be on the sands?"

"Another time maybe," D'son says unruffled, "the view is pretty amazing," he adds with enthusiasm and consults the digram again before tying up another set of bits, then sets the whole down and regards it for a moment. "That's as much as I can do on it for now," he murmurs and flicks the handheld off, puts it back in his pocket and pulls out a stool from under the table, perches on it. "Huh. I like to sail. Used to go fishing a lot at the Weyr." But then he's shaking his head. "Actually, I was going to go for the Smithcraft before I impressed. I screwed it up though, but that's not the answer to your question," Dels notes with a wink. "On the sands? Itchy. And nervewracking. Even weyrbred and used to it, blah blah blah. And then boom, Inimeth was in my head and … well y'know, words kind of fail."

Moria nods, leaning back against the table to watch the last adjustment to the structure. "Screwed it up?" she asks, blinking at the bronzerider. "See, now you've made me curious about that, and it isn't my turn to ask," she chides with a smile. "What I was trying to ask about the sand was what did it feel like to be that close to the hatchlings? I've watched a couple hatchings from the observation level, here and one at Ista, and I always thought it would be terrifying to be on the sands, close to hatchlings who are uncoordinated and confused. I saw a couple people get hurt, though not badly, at the hatching where R'owan Impressed, for example."

"Oh, well that didn't really faze me much, to be honest, because I've been around dragons so much, even younger ones at the Weyr since I was a kid. It just … didn't occur to me?" D'son's mouth quirks up wryly. "I mean it's kind of ingrained that if you wind up on the sands, you might need to dodge." His feet hook through the rungs of his stool and his hands rest atop his knees. "So … I guess you want to know the dramatic tale of how I didn't go to the smithcraft next?" Good-natured.

Moria ahs softly, resting her chin in one hand much as she had been when he arrived. "I guess it would be less terrifying if your used to it. I don't know that I could be anything but scared stiff on the sands, personally. I mean, dragons are so /big/ even newly hatched…" She trails off and shrugs before raising a brow. "It's your turn to ask a question, and that doesn't count," she replies, lips twitching.

D'son laughs merrily at that last. "Yeah, I guess they just … never seemed that scary to me, dragons." Breath blown out and he shifts to prop his own chin up on his hand, elbow on the table. "If you were asked to Stand, would you?"

Moria grins at D'son's easy response and laugh, relaxing against the table. "You have the advantage over me for that. I've only been around them for a little over two years, so they are still quite capable of scaring me," she replies. "Uhm, I really don't know. The subject has never come up, so I haven't really thought about it," she says after a few moments thought. "Why did you Stand?" she counters.

"My parents are both riders and well, after what happened with the craft it seemed like a good idea," D'son says candidly. "And you're right, that's an advantage. But you know, spending more time around them usually helps with that." He considers her for a moment, a slight grin caught on his face. "Okay, this is more personal, have you ever been in love?"

Moria raises a brow. "It seemed like a good idea, huh? Well, I'll have to revisit that, if I can remember it for the next round." Moria shakes her head slightly. "I spend time around them when it works out, but I've been very busy since I became a journeywoman." She sighs then and answers his questions as shortly as she can, looking away from the table. "Yes."

"Yeah, what can I say, I was fifteen," D'son says wryly then sits up as her expression changes. "I'm sorry. Too personal," he apologizes and clears his throat. "So, the short version on why I didn't apprentice is that I blew up my grandfather's lab because I was angry at him for grounding me."

Moria nods slightly at the apology, rubbing her arms slowly as she listens to his response. "Fifteen is an impulsive age, I hear," she murmurs. "Wait, what?" Her head snaps up, and she blinks at D'son. "What did you do to his lab?"

"I blew it up," D'son repeats with a shift of his hand to scratch at his nose. "Well okay, not the whole lab. He had an experiment in progress and I trashed it and it blew. Made a big damn mess and set him back about three weeks," the bronzerider confesses more soberly. "I'd been living with him and my grandmother at the Smith Hall, studying with him before applying to the Hall for an apprentice spot. And well, I made friends with these guys and they were just … the wrong kind of friends, really," Dels confesses sheepishly. "So I wrecked his stuff and got sent home. I did odd work around the Weyr until I was Searched."

"You blew it up." Moria's tone is flat, and the look on her face a mixture of startlement and something undefinable. "I am assuming that nobody got hurt, then, from how easily you say that," she says slowly, staring at D'son. "And I take it this wasn't so much an explosion as violent creation of a mess? Explosion sounds very… bad," she adds.

"No, it was nighttime, there was no one there," D'son says with a quiet sigh and looks away, hand rubbing at his face. "Some of the beakers actually blew up. So small explosions," he relates and scrubs a hand through his hair. "For a long time I was … sulky about it. Wanted to apologize and couldn't bring myself to do it. My parents took my salary and sent it to grandpa to make up for the damages. And I pretty well shot my chances of apprenticing right there. Probably the stupidest thing I've ever done."

Moria mmms softly, still rubbing her arms. "Well, at least nobody got hurt," she murmurs, looking down at the table. "Did you ever apologize? I mean, it's been a couple turns now, right? Did you ever get around to telling your grandfather that you were sorry about it?" She pauses, then adds, "I'm pretty sure you could have managed to still become an apprentice. There have certainly been worse choices made."

"Yes, I have, after I Impressed, I wrote to him and then I went to visit and he forgave me." D'son smiles a little wryly. "At the time, I was convinced not. I mean, my grandfather was the one who was going to sponsor me in and there was no way he was going to unless I apologized and it just … well it got to be this /thing/ and I didn't figure it out for a while. Inimeth … well he helped a lot."

Moria nods again, gradually relaxing into leaning on the table again. "I'm glad you were able to set things straight with your grandfather." She rubs her face for a moment before asking, "So what is your next question? It is your turn, right? I lost track of who was asking and answering," she says.

"I lost track too," D'son confesses with a laugh. "So, if you did get posted out away from here, where would you want to go? Is there anywhere you haven't been to that you really want to see?"

Moria smiles, shrugging slowly. "I don't know. I've visited Fort and Ista Weyrs, but they aren't anything like Xanadu. I like it here. I like the southern continent. I might try out Eastern or Western, or one of the many holds, but I'm pretty happy here," she responds.

"So am I," D'son says with a slow smile. "Western is interesting, the islands," the bronzerider claims. "And the beaches over by Cove are incredible of course."

"Really?" Moria asks, tilting her head to one side. "I should visit them at some point and see. I do like a good beach," she admits with a smile. "So, let's see… I know! What is the worst job you've ever had to do?"

"Yeah, a lot of them are like, perfect crescents of white sand with blue, blue water. Amazing," D'son says earnestly, then burst out laughing. "Uh, /fixing/ a latrine."

Moria grins, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind one ear. "I love the beaches here because they are so serene. I imagine more secluded locations are even better," she agrees. She wrinkles her nose. "Really? That's awful. I haven't ever had to do anything that bad. The worst I've had to do is scour melted glass off brick. It's a long, slow, and painstaking process."

"Yeah, there's some places down here, if you go deep in, where there's still no holders, it's just … completely quiet and it' sjust the wildlife. You could almost pretend it's just you there, in all the world." His head bobs confirmation about that job. "Yeah. Lowly handyman guy at the Weyr, no pull, good with tool and pipes," a nod to the contents of the table. "Happens." He makes a face about the scouring. "Shells, that does sound long. I mean, once glass is hard, how /do/ you get it off?"

Moria nods and smiles, fully relaxed as she leans on the table again. "I can imagine that is beautiful, on so many level," she says softly. "Maybe someday I'll have a chance to see such a place," she says musingly before grimacing. "Very carefully. You chip it away, and sand the surface to smoothness when you remove as much as possible."

"Hope you do … and well, if you have time sometime, I would be happy to take you," D'son offers earnestly. "Inimeth likes to fly to new places, or revisit ones that are 'new to him' if he's forgotten about them." He makes a face about the glass removal process. "Ugh, that sounds unpleasant. You can't … reheat it?"

Moria smiles her thanks, saying, "That would be lovely. I've only flown a few times, so I wouldn't mind another chance to do so." She then shakes her head as she says, "The only way to get the glass to melt again would be to heat it to a very, very high temperature, and it just isn't possible to apply that kind of heat outside a forge or kiln. And it is detrimental to brick, which has a lower heat tolerance than glass does."

"Yeah? Well then definitely, it's worth going. Do you like flying, or does it bother your stomach like going on a boat?" D'son asks curiously. He nods understanding about the glass/brick process. "Yeah, that's true, the brick would superheat and go brittle before you got the glass off."

Moria shakes her head. "Flying itself is delightful. Taking off and landing is a bit unnerving, but other than that I have a lot of fun. Being on a ship on open water is an entirely different matter." She nods then. "It would, and then the whole process is pretty pointless, since you can't use the brick anymore. So I got to chip away a lot of glass, and then sand the rest away."

"Yeah, with a not so smooth flyer that can be less than pleasant," D'son agrees about take offs and landings. "Is it the motion of the water or the openness?" Dels asks curiously. Another face is made about the glass. "Yeah, well I hope that doesn't happen /often/ in your line of work."

"Even with a smooth flyer, it is a little disturbing, but that might be because I've only done it four times," Moria responds with a grin. "I came here from Landing, and went North and back here three times. That's all the times I have ever been aloft." D'son's question about the sea has her shrugging slightly. "It must be the motion, because below deck I still get sick," she says. "But I've never really tested that much. After three miserable attempts at trying to find my 'sea legs', I gave up and decided seacrafting wouldn't work for me."

"Yeah, just meant that when it's smooth it's not as bad, but when it's not it can be awful if you're not used to it," D'son clarifies. "Well, just ask almost any afternoon before dinner, I've usually got some time now. When I go outWeyr these days it's usually mornings or afternoons. You know, visits to holds and stuff to touch base and talk to people." He listens about the seasickness and makes a little face. "That's a shame. Little boats and big boat all the same?"

Moria ahs, nodding slightly. "Slightly less bad, yes. Maybe someday I'll get used to it and can enjoy the whole thing. I don't think I'll ever be up to flying with someone like Siebeth, though. I've heard stories about how he likes to fly." She shudders at the idea. "Anyhow, it's /ship/ and boat, for the record. My father would take issue with that. A boat is a small vessel that is not sea-worthy. It's good for puttering around on small lakes and the like. A ship… A ship is what moves cargo and people from North to South."

"Oh heck, no," D'son says with a laugh. "Siebeth is something else," he agrees there, grins. "Fun, if you like that kind of thing. But not if you don't. Inimeth's much much steadier." Dels shifts, chin propping on his fist and he nods. "I do actually know that, I'm just um … not fussy about it, but I'll remember that when talking to seacrafters."

Moria smiles faintly. "Sorry. I'm used to people not knowing, and my family is pretty strict about it. But to answer your actual question, the size of the vessel makes no difference for me. I still get sick." She blinks. "Have we reached twenty questions or no at this point?"

"No, not quite, I don't think, but … it doesn't really matter, does it? It broke the ice, so to speak," D'son says with a grin. "Think it'll be easier to just talk next time?"

Moria smiles, nodding. "It did break the ice, yes. I think it helped a lot. And if we have problems, we can always try this trick again," she says.

"Great, and uh yeah, if there's an issue, sure," Dels says with a smile. "I should probably find a box to put this stuff in so I don't go dropping it on anyone," the bronzerider notes about his semi-construction.

Moria nods and points toward a cabinet. "There are boxes and bags and whatnot in there that you can use to transport things. Do let me know if you need something. I'll be happy to thelp where I can. And I'll let you know when I have another orb ready and you can take a look at it, alright?"

"Thanks," D'son says with a grin and slids off his stool. "I might ask you to help me with testing this thing out, as well as for the fittings if I need glass ones," the bronzerider says happily and gives the crafter a little salute. "Yes ma'am," he offers good-naturedly. "I'll look forward to that." He goes over to the cabinet and locates a box that's big enough for his stuff and returns to the table to load it up, gives a little wave and heads back out.

Moria nods, keeping out of the way as D'son packs everything away. "Take care and good luck with that," she calls as he leaves, moving over to clean up her table finally.

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