Satoris is Searched

Xanadu Weyr - Observation Level

Dark blue seats form a semi-circle around the sands below, the lowest row separating from the sands themselves by merely a railing. The seats climb upwards, each row a bit higher then the previous, and they are broken up into sections by 3 sets of staircases. Lights are evenly spaced along the outer wall, lighting the seats and the sands easily, though they tend to be dimmed unless a major event is taking place. A large balcony looms overhead, darkening some of the seats, providing a place for observers of the draconic kind to watch without obstructing the view for others.

When one looks over the railing, the oddly hued sand below can be seen easily, the circle-shaped area of the sands spread out to the far walls, the sand itself a unique mixture of red and white grains.

Late afternoon finds Thea once again camped out up in the observation level with Seryth on the sands below. A mattress has been brought from Stores and is laid across several rowseats. There's a small tea table, it's top covered with a stack of paperwork and a small framed harper's pencil sketch of two tiny babes. Various other things are also set up nearby such as a cooler with ice, fruit juice and water, a small frame for making tapestry rugs and a box full of wool fluffs in various colors to complete the craft and help her while away the long, hot hours here. Presently the weyrwoman sits staring at the empty canvas deep in thought. Likely trying to decide on a pattern for the rug.

The observation levels have often served as a change of venue when doing paperwork for Satoris since he arrived at Xanadu a handful of Turns ago. Today is no different, save Thea is up there as well. He gives a small grunt of greeting as he makes his way in, a curt nod finishing the gesture. From within his belt is pulled a hastily rolled stack of papers and he finds a spot near the back, where he can rest his shoulders against the wall. He settles in swiftly, slouching in that way that many a man can do, finding an instant, if strange comfort.

O'rly's entrance isn't quite as casual as Satoris' - she peeks around the corner, eyes shifting furtively over goldrider and miner before raising one hand to her mouth and giving a subtle cough. "Weyrwoman?" For a woman of thirty-three turns, she can still appear impressively innocent, dark eyes wide before they scrunch with a smile. "I was wondering if I could take a peek." Waggling fingers trail vaguely towards the sands. "I heard there're quite a few beauties out there." Her gaze flicks up towards the back and the slouching Satoris, hand tilting in a wave for him too. "Ah, sorry, I'm being rude. I'm O'rly, Sanldoth's rider. I don't know if we got properly introduced before." It had been, what, two turns? If not more?

Approaching footsteps draw Thea's contemplation away from that empty canvas, ice green eyes lift to note his passage with a nod of her own, lips twitch in an amused smile for that oh-so-familiar grunt of his. Her camp is down near the rail and as the miner is walking by, she lifts her hand, waggling her fingers in a little wave, her head turning as he continues on up. Well! She's not going to have a two-word sentence conversation after all, apparently. O'rly's cough has her swiveling her head back around with a blink and a slow smile lights her face. "O'rly, I remember. Thea, please." She nods to the sands below. "Of course."

Satoris looks up at the cough, catching O'rly's wave in his direction. He bestows upon her a curt nod as well. The man has been sleeping better, now that he has his weyrmate and son back with him and the child is old enough to sleep through the night and is likely even beginning to spend time with the other children. Freedom! Mind, Satoris being Satoris, he uses his freedom to do work. There's still plenty of shipment requests to go through, as well as itemized estimates for the building of that training hall he's overseeing the construction of. His pencil ends up in his mouth and he gnaws absently at it as he goes over one such list.

"Thea," O'rly agrees to use the name with a grateful smile, eyes flicking from Thea to the sands and back. "Thank ya. Only downfall of getting back into my craft: some of the classes have to be taught at night to be real effective." Bounding down to the edge of the railing, she leans over a bit to look at the distant eggs, eyes lit up like a child's. "Shards, they're amazing, Wey- Er, Thea. If they don't make you some beautiful dragonets, I'm a wherry." She takes her time skimming her eyes over Seryth's and Kilaueth's clutches alike before spinning around and leaning her back against the rail. "Whatcha workin' on?" Hazel eyes take in Thea and Satoris in one fell swoop. "It's too much of a pretty afternoon for work, so it must be important."

Thea grins at the nonverbal communication from the miner. Typical. Oh, the dance of imp there in her eyes gives evidence that she wants to go heckle him badly, but alas. As O'rly is expounding on the beauty of the clutch below and she's replying, there's a wail from the entrance below and a nanny with a baby beckoning to her. "Oh, shards! Time to feed them. I'm sorry O'rly, I've got to run. Doing this the old-fashioned way." Which means no bottles, no formula. She skips down the steps, calling, "Coming, coming!"

O'rly's eyes slide down towards the nanny at the sound of a baby crying, eyes crinkling along the edges fondly. "Aw, don't apologize, Thea. I don't mind one bit. Go, take care of them." Fingers flicker and wave in farewell before her gaze swings back up to Satoris. "Aye, that it is. I'm just too used to doing my work in the evenings these days, I think. Been out of the habit of doing paperwork during the day for the better part of five turns. That, at least, was an easy habit to break." She at least seems sympathetic about it, pushing off the railing to make her slow way up the stairs. "Is it at least interesting, or is it some of the blander stuff?"

"It's interesting to me," Satoris states, in a way that's nearly defensive. Perhaps he gets a lot of flak for his working habits. He is the very picture of a workaholic. "With the number of miners and wherhandlers that Xanadu has, I'm working on building a teaching and research outpost. I've just been going over the estimates from the woodcraft on the building and filling out the material orders and shipping forms so we can get everything needed."

"See, now /that's/ interesting. Making and building things, and ordering what you need for it, was always satisfying. It's writing the essays and explaining the need that I never had the patience for. Sanldoth, on the other hand…" O'rly's eyes go distant, mouth curling in mild amusement. "She lives for it. 'Logical' this, 'paperwork is sane and unchanging' that. Predictable, and the like. I guess I just miss adventure on occasion." She drops onto a seat near the miner, but not too close to be stifling, hopefully. "Do you head up the craft here, or are you just helping out?" Eyes skim for his knot curiously.

Satoris bears the knot of a Journeyman in the MineCraft. "I am the Weyr's Miner, yes. There are a couple other Journeymen here, but since I oversaw getting the mine running, it seems I've been left to keep that mantle for the time being." A brief smirk, considering O'rly. "I do like paperwork and the sanity of it, though adventures can be alright… from time to time." He does not seem to mind her sitting near; apparently his seeking the rear seats was merely for the comfort of a wall to lean against and not out of avoidance of anyone.

"I see. Seems you're bearing it well, then, if they haven't seen fit to oust you, yeah?" Lory tucks her knees up comfortably, fingers linking loosely around them. "Alright, well, too much adventure can be just as detrimental as not enough, but I bet you see your fair share of adventure down in the mines. Never been in one myself, but I don't have a desire to be down one when, ah, 'adventure' crops up." She smiles, but it's crooked and tense, having heard of many such dangers from her closest S&R friend. "Guess it just depends on what kind of adventures. Just seems that between work and kids, very few people appreciate them as much as they used to."

"There were a couple of incidents back at the beginning and I think the area's earthquakes as of late are why there are a number of whers assigned to the Weyr." Satoris personally feels he's kept the position because no one else has tried to claim it. "Adventures are for stories told by Harpers… Working, children… that's what lifeis about. The rest is just fantasy."

"Makes sense, that. Whers are amazingly useful, especially in the worst of situations… San likes them, seems to think they're incredibly underappreciated by the general public. Sometimes I have to agree." O'rly flicks her eyes over Satoris, speculative, head tilting gently to one side. "What happens when you get all three? I know plenty of people that have found a healthy balance and manage to live their fantasy within their job, while keeping a family. It isn't without its hazards, but it's possible."

"My father and brother are both Wherhandlers," Satoris says briefly, though leaves the subject there, it would seem. It is a strange one.. at least from his perspective. He glances down to his paperwork, makes a few notation, and glances back up. "I'm not sure, really. I try to avoid anything too outrageous nowadays. I have too many responsibilities…" A lengthy pause and he blinks those pale eyes of his at O'rly. "I suppose that's your point, though."

"But not you?," O'rly asks, though clearly that is the case. She lets the question hang for a moment, lips pursed thoughtfully, legs slowly uncurling so she can lean over the back of her seat towards the miner. "Responsibilities are all well and good, but consider it, hm?" Her eyes meet his, but something about her crooked, quiet smile indicates the interest isn't all hers. "You're very perceptive. I wonder… How many times have you stood?" Her smirk deepens considerably. She's being blunt, and she knows it.

Standing. Satoris' eyes shift, drifting to the Sands and the eggs there. The man denied Standing once. Then he accepted, at the behest of his weyrmate. Well, not at her behest, but perhaps for her. It turned into quite a deal more once he actually experienced it and his expression betrays that. The man draws a slow breath: "Once," he answers quietly, gaze slowly returning to O'rly.

O'rly remains quiet though his pensive moments, head still tilted, sideways smile fixed into place. Now and then, her eyes stare off into the near distance, as though holding a conversation in her own head before returning to the present. "I see… Would you consider doing it again?" She looks towards the entrance to the foyer, unerringly in the direction of her lifemate. "You don't have to take my word for it, but Sanldoth seems to think you should give it a second shot. What do you say?"

Knowing how others had reacted when he turned it down the first time around, Satoris mulls over it for a moment. Can he handle rejection again? Being left out there on the Sands? Though he'd not admit it — despite how clear it likely was and still is — he was drawn in a lot more than he'd have imagined. Still, there's something to be said for fortitude and a willingness to keep getting back on that runner. The man braces his shoulders slightly before glancing over to O'rly. "If Sanldoth believes I should give it a second shot… I will."

O'rly likely would have taken his (initial) rejection in stride, but it's clear from the slow creep of her eyebrows towards the short flop of her hair that she'd be only too willing to try, try again. Patience was a virtue the greenrider had earned time and time again… Though that doesn't mean that she's any less pleased when he accepts, lips spreading into a wide grin. "She says your choice was the most logical decision that could be made, and that she firmly approves, so I guess that answers that." Reclining back into her seat, she digs into a pouch on her belt and withdraws a white knot that she'd been keeping there, just in case her stoic green ever decided to bend in the face of a potential candidate. "And hey, if nothing else, it'll be an adventure," she says with a wink and an amused crinkle of her nose, chin propping on one hand. "I s'pose you know you'll have to move into the candidate barracks and the like, yeah? Not a huge rush, you could probably get away with a day or two if you have business to take care of with family or the craft, but you know… When you're good to go, this's yours." Her free hand passes the knot over.

Taking the knot in hand, Satoris rubs his thumb over the threads briefly. He reverently removes his Journeyman knot and replaces it with the knot of candidacy. "When I last Stood, I was told I was welcome to take the option should it come again. I suppose I proved myself able to juggle both duties." He draws in a breath before his lips quirk in a slight smile. "Family will be no issue. Zevida would probably murder me had I said no." As for belongings? Well, he's a man. He can carry the important things on his back. He glances to O'rly, then beyond in the direction she had looked before. Assuming the dragon is somewhere in that direction. "Thank her for me… It's nice to know someone feels I deserve a second chance."

O'rly watches silently, bright smile dimming down to something more fond, perhaps remembering old candidacy days herself. "There's a reason why they always say that: because it's always true. If you've done it once, surely you can do it again." Chuckling quietly at the mention of what she supposed was a weyrmate, Lory nodded in a knowing fashion, completely understanding the sentiment. "I'm glad this Zevida is so… supportive. As for Sanldoth, she says you are most welcome and that people always deserve a second chance." Pushing back off her seat, the greenrider brushes imaginary dust off her pants. "I echo the sentiment. If at first you don't succeed, well… I suppose you know the idiom as well as I do, yeah?," she asks with a sideways grin. "I'm sure you'll do fine, but if you ever need anything, let me know, will you?"

Remembering the insanity of cot-grabbing in Turns past, including the one where he assisted in removing all the cots from the barracks… Satoris rolls up his paperwork and tucks it into his belt as he gets to his feet. His Miner knot is tucked into a pocket. Safe-keeping and all that. He looks to O'rly and gives a small nod, "I know the idiom and… yes, I'll let you know. I think… I guess it's not too distant a memory of how this all goes."

Lory gives him a moment, then bobs her head, jerking her chin towards the foyer. "It's just one foot in front of the other, the way I understand it - once you start, the ball just keeps on rolling. Just don't let it roll you over and you'll be good as gold." Heading through the exit, the greenrider glances over one shoulder. "I'll walk with you, if you like. I'm sure you'll want to grab a space for yourself as soon as possible." A sentiment she very well understood.

"Sure," Satoris says, glancing towards the Sands. He draws in a long breath and rolls his shoulders back slightly. Back into that world of uncertainty. The one place he's found where he's not able to be easily confident and on the top of the game. "It'd be nice if I could get the same cot I had had before," he muses, following O'rly.

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