Rished Is Searched

The current time for zone 9 is: 2683.12.21 04:29:03


Caverns - Xanadu Weyr

A massive cavern in it's own right, this one has been skillfully adapted for human habitation. The high ceilings have been painted a light, soft ivory, as are the walls where numerous tapestries hang to provide brilliant color and insulation from the stone. The floor has been left in its natural state, pale pink granite speckled through with glittering mica and dark flecks of basalt, leveled carefully but kept sufficiently rough to avoid slips.

The cavern itself is loosely divided into areas, each one set up to be suitable for some segment of the Weyr's population. The most frequently occupied area, however, is the one near the Kitchens where tables of varying sizes provide a place to sit down and eat or chat and a buffet of consumables is almost always kept stocked. Its plain that on most days, this area wouldn't accommodate anywhere near the full population of the Weyr and equally plain that on such occasions when a formal meal is laid out, tables are appropriated from all the other areas.

A big fireplace is set into the wall near the Kitchens as well, several comfortable chairs nearby providing haunts for elderly residents or riders who like a good view of all that happens. Rugs cover the floor in strategic spots, all of them abstract or geometric in design and most in the softly neutral colors of undyed wool.

Exits lead off in all directions, a big archway the largest and that leading outside. Shallow stairs to the west lead to the offices and administration area while tunnels to the east lead to the infirmary, kitchen and resident's quarters. Southwards, a sloping tunnel leads down to the hot springs and southwest is a wide tunnel, carefully roped off to avoid accidents.

The mid-day meal has been served for most of the Weyr's populace already and the bulk of the crowd has since filtered out to return to whatever work and fun they had left on their agenda. And then there are those few who never /really/ seem to leave the living caverns when they're able to loiter, like the odd weyrbrat and the older aunties and uncles … and the occasional crafter, who has claimed a table off to a side and is currently turning a bit of wood in his hands. Rished isn't alone, though his current company is helpful only in the sense of cleaning up the remaining scraps from his meal; a trio of 'lizards is gamboling about on the table otherwise and just keeping themselves (reasonably) out of trouble. As for the apprentice, he's too occupied in studying the piece of wood and then glancing at the notepad in his lap to pay too much mind to his mini-fair — and that /could/ be a recipe for disaster.

Hair all spiked up from a recent bath, D'son looks particularly squeaky clean like he just washed and changed his clothes and that's probably why he's late for lunch. Maybe he had a busy morning. Either way, he's stuck with sorting through the leftovers on the buffet and winds up with a handful of meatrolls and a glass of water. As he walks past, it's not so much the lizards as Rished's close attention to that piece of wood that draws D'son's attention. "Building something?" he asks the apprentice in a conversational manner.

The angle might be off, but D'son might spot the notepad with its myriad of sketches — firelizards, unsurprisingly, but all of them coiled up or curled up in oddly 'blockish' ways. Rished's tongue pokes out briefly while he tips the block in his hands, only snapping out of that thoughtfulness when the other man speaks. "I, uh. Oh, hi." He blinks, taking a few seconds to parse the question and then he shakes his head with a lopsided grin, gently nudging Navy to a side so he can put the block down. "Nah, I'm trying to figure out how to turn this," the block is indicated, "into one of them."

Tilting his head to correct that angle a little as the contents of that page catch his notice, D'son's face lights with some kind of understanding. "So, not building, but making," the bronzerider says and nods to the table. "Mind company? Though I'm not sharing my lunch with them," a chin lift towards the lizards.

"Yeah," Rished grins. "Well, I hope so, anyway. We'll see if it turns out at all. Sometimes, wood just isn't cooperative at all." For the question, the apprentice shakes his head emphatically. "I don't mind at all. Neither do they; they're plenty fat and happy right now. But, uh. Here, I'll send them off, just in case." It takes a bit of cajoling — mental and verbal — but they're quickly sent on their way to raise mischief elsewhere. Or, more likely, to find an inconvenient place to nap.

"Neither are gears and fittings sometimes," D'son says sympathetically. "I build things sometimes," the bronzerider explains and puts his little plate of meatrolls and the glass down. "Did you impress them all in one go, or one at a time?" Dels asks curiously as the mini-fair go flittering off. "I used to live in a weyr that had a lip over the ledge and it collected wild ones."

"I guess everything can be a little unruly from time to time, huh?" Pause. "What kinds of things do you build?" Rished seems intensely curious in this, going so far as to flip to another page in his notepad for the duration. For the question, though, there's a wry tweak to his smile and a slight shake of his head. "Uh. Kinda. My sister gave me an egg — that was the blue — and then that big basket of eggs hatched, and Missy found me out of that. Same day." He rubs the back of his neck. "And then Suede- he was an accident, picked him up a sevenday or so after the other two." There's a bit of a blink, then: "Really? What was that like?"

"Um .. you know things that do things. Built a clock one time," D'son says with a grin. "Working on a filtering system right now." The bronzerider picks up a meatroll tears off a bite. "Wow, so from none to three in just a seven. Huh." Dels' expression turn wry. "Noisy. I had to get Inimeth to shut them up all the time."
Rished cants his head to a side slightly with an oh-so-articulate, "Huh. Sounds, uh. Complicated." A little more back-of-the-neck rubbing is had and then his smile just goes a little more sideways. "Yeah. It, uh. It was different. They're pretty well-behaved, though, so that's pretty helpful." At the description of the noise, his nose wrinkles a bit with, "Ugh. I can't imagine. Did they steal stuff all the time like the tame ones sometimes do?"

"Sometimes it is," D'son agrees to complicated. "I'm looking at crafting actually," he explains further and shoots Rished a brief look, as if assessing the apprentice. "Good they behave, yeah. The wild ones were not particularly well mannered, though they didn't really steal anything except food." Dels' brows knit together faintly and he clears his throat. "You know, you look familiar, a little. Are you related to Moria? She mentioned a brother in the woodcraft."

"Really? Huh. Well, it can't hurt — crafting, I mean." Rished seems oblivious to any assessments or brow-knitting looks and he simply continues along with a nod for the man's description of 'lizardly thievery and an eventual, "Huh? Oh, yeah." He grins. "Mo's my older sister. She's been helping me get settled here since I got here. It's, uh. It's been interesting."

"No, it can't and I think it'll be interesting. It's something I've been meaning to do since before I Impressed," Dels says about the crafting but then he smiles. "I'm D'son, Inimeth's," the rider introduces himself and holds a hand out. "Your sister's really good with glass."

Rished nods a little, offering a grin. "It's always interesting," he assures, then reaches out to accept the offered hand in greeting. "Rished. Nice to meet you D'son." There's a pause, then his grin widens. "She's great with glass." Biased? Never. "She's actually going to be helping me with something, uh, later. Just have to figure out how to make it work, first."
A firm shake and D'son's hand retreats back to his glass for a drink of water. "Yeah, she was saying she could help me out with some pieces of that filter if I'm having trouble with it. And told me all about putting color inside of a sphere." That last earns Rished a curious look. "What kind of something?" His expression gets a little abstracted though as he munches on the end of another meatroll, head cocked to the side.

There's a bit of a nod, with his everpresent grin still firmly in place, "She's great like that, too." Rished glances to his notepad, then, and flips through a few pages — his sketchwork is fair enough, though even those are marred with a plethora of numbers and lines to determine measurement. "It's nothing /special/," he finally says, brow knitting. "I'm just wanting to experiment a little with how wood and glass can work together." Eventually, a page is found and the pad offered over, showing a rectangle with vague, 'lizardly shapes on it. Colored spots are added — eyes, wingsails, and a bit of randomness at the top — for, presumably, where the glass would go.

Taking the pad, D'son looks it over with interest once his focus has returned. "You've got a good hand for that," D'son notes, nodding towards the sketchpad. "Sounds interesting, might look nice too," he continues and takes a breath, tosses the last bit of meatroll into hismouth and chews. The sketchpad is offered back across the table and the bronzerider tilts his head towards the exit. "So — Inimeth would like to meet you. Feel up for that?"

"It helps," he replies, reaching to take the pad when it's offered. "Ornamental carving is my specialty, so it helps a /lot/. And I'm hoping it does work. It'll be a panel in a, uh, wood screen. For changing behind, that kind of thing." Rished flips it closed and gives a final look to the table, as if confirming that there's nothing left that might be of interest, and then tips his head up … only to blink a little. He's just a little baffled, but it's shrugged off with, "Uh. Sure."

"That'll be something when it's done," D'son says of the proposed screen and smiles at the apprentice encouragingly. "There's eggs on the sands," the bronzerider explains simply and gets to his feet, to lead the way outside.

"Wait, what." He's too confused to even make it a question, so all Rished can do is follow his feet. The lad stands and, when the rider finally makes for the exit, he'll follow — if rather like a bewildered canine-pup that isn't quite sure of what to make of things all of a sudden.


Xanadu Weyr - Clearing

A wide clearing stretches from east to west, the ground packed hard although grass grows across most of it. Trees are strictly forbidden in this space, their danger to the constant draconic traffic reason enough to banish them to the forest that creates a this and sharp border to the north. Where the ground is less trampled, tiny flowers poke their delicate heads out from their shaded hiding places with upturned petals to wave to whoever may be looking.

The cliff looms imposingly on three sides, stretching upwards all the way up the side of the mountain where, high above, Xanadu's Star Stones and the ever present watchdragon sit on a lonely peak. Directly south is a massive tunnel, fully wide enough for even the largest dragon to fly down. Southeast are wide steps leading up to the Caverns and eastwards is the large entrance to the Infirmary. Somewhat north of the Infirmary is a human sized archway that has a frequent quantity of traffic — it leads to the Tavern. Southwest lies the low ledges currently belonging to Xanadu's queens while north and west a broad path cut by the side of the cliff leads to the Feeding Grounds and due north is the spacious trail that leads to the rest of the Weyr.

Rished is, by contrast, just confused — though, to be fair, confusion is a natural state of being for him, most of the time. The notepad is tucked under an arm, his free hand scratching at the back of his neck, and he hangs back a few steps behind D'son as he leads the way outside. The bronze earns a slight furrowing of his brows and, of course, all he can think to blurt out is: "This is Inimeth?"

"Yep," D'son says and gestures Rished over closer. Inimeth noses forward, bringing his gaze down at the same level as the boy and then lets out a cheery warble. "He's pleased to meet you … and he'd like to know if you'll stand for Seryth's clutch," Dels says without much further preamble. "What do you think?"

He remains utterly still as the bronze lowers his head and looks at him, his confusion only deepening a little further at the warble. Rished opens his mouth as if to speak but then D'son's speaking and he just makes a funny little noise at the back of his throat. "I. Uh." Mud-brown eyes flick from Inimeth to D'son and back again, rapid-fire, while he attempts to buy some time to find the right words to string together. The result? "I think I'd, uh. I'd be honored." He lets out a sudden breath in a laugh, "Very honored."

"He likes being scritched behind his headknobs," D'son provides helpfully and smiles, nods. "It's a for life thing. If you impress, so you know. And there's parts that aren't always easy. Flights bug some people a lot," the bronzerider says thoughtfully. "And it can be tough getting used to sharing your head with another being. But … I think it's worth it." Deep breath. Smile. "Okay then. You'll need to let your journeyman know and I'll bet you'll want to tell your family. Let me know if you need a ride anywhere. I can show you where to move your stuff to, too."

"Does he?" Rished finally seems jolted enough to actually move and move he does, in order to reach behind one of those headknobs and offer to start in with the scritching. "I, yeah. Yeah. I've heard a lot about it so far," he admits, glancing over to D'son while he speaks. "About what it's kind of like, I mean. But none of that really compares to what it'll actually be like, huh?" Understatement of the turn, that. For the rest, there's a nod, slow at first then a bit more firm. "I will. And I kinda have to tell Moria, at least." What with her being here at the Weyr and all. He sucks in a breath and lets it out slowly. "I think I'm good right now. There's not much to move, either, but if you can show me where it's going to have to go to, that'd be great."

"Yeah, he does and well — yeah, it's hard to put it into words, to be honest," D'son says with a wry look. "It's just one of those things, though you probably have a bit of a hint from the firelizards, even if it's a hundred times just … /more/ with a dragon." Inimeth leans his head into Rished's hand, a thrum of pleasure vibrating deep in is throat. "Okay, can do," Dels says about the barracks.

Rished bobs his head a few times, then gives a bit of a deeper rub-scritch to that spot. As long as it's a /good/ thing, he'll keep doing it. "It, uh. Yeah, it's interesting with them and their touch, I guess you could call it, but-" he trails off, words failing him as they so often do. Apologetically does he smile and duck his head briefly, for a moment lost in thought. Then: "It's not far, is it?"

"Sure, touch to the mind and it's just … more a lot more with a dragon," D'son says with a little shake of his head. "Really hard to describe it right." Another shake of Dels' head. "Nope. Just through the hatching arena," the bronzerider says with a gesture that way. "Take your time though, Inimeth's happy."

"Just over there?" He glances off in that direction with a lift of his chin to confirm, though Rished's mindful to keep up his ministrations for the time being. "I can probably find it, then, if you're busy by the time I need to, uh, get things moved over." There's a slight pause, then, "It, uh. It'll either make sense or it won't, in the end," he finally says of the difficulty to describe the sensation. He seems content with that assessment and lapses into a bit of giddy, goofily-grinning silence.

Inimeth continues to nudge his head into Rished's hand. "I'm not in a rush, can walk you over there so you see where it is," D'son offers. "As soon as Inimeth's done." And the bronzerider leans against the dragon's side, gaze fond.

There's a bit of a laugh for the bronze's insistence and Rished's more than happy to comply. Rub-rub-scritch-scritch. "Ah, alright. Just wasn't sure if you had other things to do or anything like that," he replies after a moment. A sidelong look is given to the subject of his scritching and then he's looking back over to D'son with a chuckled — and unhurried-sounding — "Is he ever done?"

"Not right now. Done with duties for the day," D'son notes and runs his hand along Inimeth's side. "We-ll technincally no, but he might get interested in something else after a while," the bronzerider claims. Another pat to the dragon's side and he nods towards the arena. "Want to go take a look?"

"Ah, okay. Good." There's that bit of concern laid to rest, with the boy's grin renewing itself. Rished glances askance at D'son for his explanation and then there's a nod, with him reluctantly — oh-so-reluctantly — pulling his hand away from where he'd been so diligently working at Inimeth's headknob. "Yeah, sure." Pause. "How many cots have been taken already, do you know? I met one of the other candidates the other day … it seems like the dragons are really eager to pick them up."

A little disappointed croon follows, but then Inimeth pushes upright and stretches, waits for the pair to clear his immediate area before moving along after them. "I don't actually know, I haven't been keeping a count," D'son relates. "And well, sure, need to give the babies choices, right?" As the bronzerider turns to lead the way.


Xanadu Weyr - Candidate Barracks

A long, low ceiling room opens off the entrance hall to the arena, one wall slightly curved as it is set against the outer wall of the arena itself. Cots are set evenly the length of the room, in two rows, each with its own small press at the foot, for personal belongings. Wide windows are spaced along the outside wall, letting sunlight in, while other lights are available for the night time hours.

"Well, with two sets of eggs out there, it's probably even more important than ever to give them lots of good choices," Rished's saying as he follows along, keeping up with D'son easily. There's a thoughtful look on his face, but it might simply be nothing more than him mulling over just how many cots /will/ be left by the time they get there.

"Yeah, good thing they're not Pass-sized!" D'son says with a chuckle as he leads the way into the barracks. "Pick a cot, any cot and bring your stuff over when you're ready. I'll let people know you've accepted on the leader side."

"Avani and I were just talking about that the other day," Rished laughs suddenly, rubbing at the back of his neck. Once in the barracks, it takes him a long moment or two of uncomprehending staring before he finally spots a cot that appears unclaimed. "I, uh. Okay." He turns, then, to face D'son and offers a hand with, "Thank you, too. You and Inimeth both."

Waiting until Rished's made a choice, D'son takes his hand and shakes it firmly. "Good luck," he wishes sincerely. "And if you have questions along the way, look me up if you like." With a smile, the bronzerider steps back, gives a little wave and heads out to rejoin Inimeth.

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