Raining on Your Parade (Survival Camp)
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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.


Candidates have been gathered into the barracks. What for is as yet unknown to them until the weyrsecond makes his way into the room followed shortly after by junior weyrwoman Thea. "Alright guys!" D'had makes his presence know, calling the candidates to order. "Front and center."

Thea is just here as moral support. But for who? D'had certainly doesn't need it. From the way she's eyeing some of the younger, smaller candidates with a faint concern it might just be that she's there for them in some capacity. She's dragging a large sack, not very heavy, just bulky. And she's decidedly damp-looking with wet spots dotting her tunic and dripping from her hair. Uh, oh. "Just caught me," she mutters as she steps in behind the Weyrsecond.

What might have once been time spent working on some crafting project or another at his cot has turned into working on those same projects in the Caverns or elsewhere. But, as his fellow candidates are so called, so, too, is Rished, and he finds himself among their ranks with a faint wrinkling of his nose and a half-finished wooden carving in a hand and his woodworking kit in its leather satchel slung over a shoulder.

Phylicia had been pulling her evening chores, helping serve food. But she was beckoned, so here she is. She may not stand at attention as D'had calls attention to himself, but she does stand attentive as she walks a few paces, putting herself near a small grouping of other candidates. The look D'had - and Thea - gets is a curious one. After all, they haven't done anything wrong now. … Have they?

Natishen is sitting cross-legged on the patch of floor that once contained his cot, and is now surrounded by his few posessions, marking his territory. He's sitting idle, tossing his leather ball in his hands and awaiting the reason that they were all gathered. At D'had and Thea's entrance, he drops the ball, snagging it before it rolls beyond the boundaries of his claimed space, and tucks it away, scrambling to his feet. His expression is blank as he studies the Weyrsecond and weyrwoman, offering a headbob of respect to the pair.

No, no one's done anything wrong this time. At least not that D'had is aware of. There's a light chuckle from the weyrsecond for the junior's comment as he turns a glance back on her. "Got everything there then?" a somewhat question to which he assumes the answer before turning back to the candidates. "We're going camping. Grab your things. Fifteen minutes. Go." Short and simple, straight to the pount on this one.

Thea nods, sliding the Weyrsecond a look for that chuckle that seems to say, 'Aw, the poor kids! Don't be amused at their expense.' While they're scrambling to get whatever they're taking with them, she's dragging that sack to make her rounds. "Take something warm. It get's cold at night. Here." And she reaches in that sack to hand each candidate a slicker - trous and hooded tunic of some sort of rainproof material.

"Uh. Okay?" Yes, that's Rished. Yes, he's extremely dubious. He glances back to the press that contains what few possessions he has that aren't currently in the leather bag at his shoulder and then back to D'had and Thea. The slicker is taken as it's offered, but, any questions that he might ask are, for now, stowed away while he turns and heads over to retrieve … well, whatever he has left to call his own.

Some of those not used to camping, or even a few of the younger candidates stand there for a moment, looking at D'had with mouths hanging open. But not Phylicia. She blinks a few times before a grin splits her face, and she turns towards her trunk, taking a well-used satchel out of it. "How long, sir?" Is asked as she's already carefully rolling basic things - clothing, for example - into it. "And what about bedrolls, or first aid kits?" Thea, is given a glance as she distributes those rainproof trous and hooded tunics. But Phy has that long-ago gifted coat near by. She packs what Thea is handing out more as a formality than anything else. You never know.

Natishen scratches his chin, frowning slightly as he considers the bluerider's words. He eyes D'had dubiously, but makes no protest - or even sound, as he bends to the task put to them. Pulling free a rucksack from press, he begins to carefully fold clothes into it, though there aren't many of those. Weyrbrats don't exactly rat extensive wardrobes. A few other items are added, including the slicker from Thea, and then he studies the half-full sack, gaze flicking between it and his ball, considering.

"Little over a seven," D'had replies to Phylicia's first question. Someone's thinking at least. "Take what ya need," he adds for the second. "Might not hurt ta have a bit ya don't think you'll use too," he adds hanging just inside the doorway where he stopped, surveying the packing.

Thea smiles quiet encouragement to the younger ones piping questions, "Take only warm clothing and your belt knife. Wear boots." They should all have them by now. "A towel…" She moves around the room murmuring suggestions here and there. "Pack light." Rished gets his slicker and she's actually surprised when Phylicia takes one. She's seen that coat her friend has. "Take something to do in your off time," she advises. Because, yes, they'll have that while out there. Raising her voice to carry just a little, "V'dim has hammocks for you out at camp, but you'll need blankets." Oh, riiiiiiiight! Those were taken along with the cots and pillows. In that case: "Take lots of warm clothes." Repeated brightly for the benefit of the younger ones.

Rished doesn't have much, it would seem. Clothes. Slicker. Some other scattered odds and ends. 'Pack light' is a bit redundant for the likes of him, really; that's all he /can/ pack. The clothing-filled bag is then slung cross-wise, opposite his woodworking kit satchel, and then he adjusts them slightly to hang comfortably. Which just leaves him a whole lot of time to watch the others while they gather their things.

Satoris packed earlier, remembering the needs from times past. His well-worn pack sits where his cot used to, at the ready. Word was left with the Weyrlingmaster staff that he was getting a few craft-related things in line first. Mostly making sure people knew what needed to be done, who to go to with questions, and what to do when something happens. The man likely has detailed charts on this sort of thing, as meticulous and obsessive as he is. He comes up on the barracks and pauses by those in the doorway. A gentle clearing of the throat, "Excuse me. Sorry for being late, but…" he nods towards his pack- in sight as he'd taken a cot near the door. "I do believe I have everything already."

"And first aid kits?" Phylicia prompts both D'had and Thea again, having not heard an answer. Her clothing is actually getting bundled within the folds of the slickers. When the girl thinks she finally has sufficent enough clothing packed, she looks at her pack and digs a little further into her press, for some of the little books she can occasionally be found reading. Whereever they're being taken to will likely have enough plants to sufficently amuse Phylicia when she doesn't feel like reading. But at the mention of blankets, Thea gets something that can only be termed as puppy-dog eyes. "No blankets, even out there?" Oh, let her tug at some strings. "Some of them'll freeze!" Her gaze going to one of the candidates who has no spare meat on them to speak of. "Please?" But it's a question. She'll not press it. Honest. As she waits for an answer, an over-tunic gets pulled on over her shirt, and ontop of that, her long coat, before she starts to buckle down the closure to her satchel.

Well, there's certainly room in the sack for his ball, and Natishen shoves it in. And hey, look, still room to spare. However, the youngster is out of ideas - and things - to pack, and he pulls closed the drawstring on the sack before securing the flap. He glances at Phylicia out of the corner of his eye, trying to see what she's packing as it's clear she knows what to do in this kind of situation.

Thea glances at Phylicia with a quelling look as she passes the candidate on her way back with that now-empty sack. She heard the question the first time. She shrugs unconcern about the first aid kit. Coolly, "V'dim will see to your needs. If you have one, bring it." That's all she says about medicine or blankets, her face doesn't reflect her personal feelings on the matter. She steps to the door, nodding silently to Satoris and stops beside the Weyrsecond.

Fifteen minutes isn't all that much time for packing, particularly when its sprun somewhat unexpectedly on a body. So that's what D'had is up to, watching the time and when it's up… "Alright, whatever ya got we're leavin'. Outside with ya."

Rished tosses a sidelong look to his fellow candidates and then his attention is drawn to the front when D'had speaks again. He's as ready as he'll ever be, so, when the first candidates start to file out after, he does as well. Silent, for once, with his brows knitting deeply in thought and with some level of confusion that isn't easily expressed any other way.

Phylicia pulls in her lower lip to nibble on it for a moment. Just before her time limit expires, she unbuckles the flap and nearly dives back into her trunk, pulling some more of her .. personal supply out, carefully but hastily stowing them into her satchel before she closes it again. She's being a good candidate and not pressing the matter further after Thea's look, but the healer portion of Phy is not entirely pleased about being sent somewhere, without known first aid supplies. She falls into the mass trailing out to the clearing, just behind Rished, her fingers working at buttoning up her coat. Though unlike the person who gifted her the coat, the extensive hood does not get drawn up around her face.

Satoris sidles into the barracks to grab up his pack, slinging it over one shoulder. One of his firelizards — Blue — was napping atop it and he holds onto the creature to keep it from flying off. Maybe he has plans for it. A nice 'lizard roast, perhaps? He angles over to step up alongside Natishen and walk with the boy out to the clearing. "Got everything?" he asks him, quietly. Sat is dressed warmly, but perhaps not as much as some of the others. He did grow up in Crom, after all.

Thea waits to help some of the stragglers, the younger ones who are struggling with their things, helping them pick up dropped belongings, flashing them bright smiles and murmuring encouragement as she keeps them moving generally in the right direction and at a reasonable pace that they won't be left behind. Herd canine - that's her job this evening.

Natishen slings his bag over his shoulder and shuffles into line, looking a little lost, a little apprehensive, and nowhere near as excited as some of the other youngsters, who can barely keep from jossling themselves and others in their eagerness for this next adventure. As Satoris steps next to him, he tilts his head up to the older boy, lip twitching up and down so fast it may not qualify as the smile it was meant to mimic. "I got all I got," he murmurs back, hefting the bag on his shoulder. "Hope it's everything."


Xanadu Weyr – Clearing

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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.


Outside are a few dragons, D'had's own blue Siebith. V'dim and his lifemate and a few of the Assistant Weyrling Masters. Ready and waiting for the arrival of the candidates to shuttle them out to the camping site.

The light evening rain does little to soak anyone - it's merely a dampening annoyance. Thea shoos the younger candidates to the dragons, directing them to split up amongst the waiting dragons. She helps them aboard as needed, then wanders the clearing to make sure nothing is left behind on the ground, her steps leading her beside Siebith. The blue gets a scritch and a pat with a quietly murmured, "How's my hero?" before drawing up to send D'had a crisp salute, her manner all formality tonight. "Clear skies, Weyrsecond." That's her only goodbye to him. Seryth is not present, being on the sands and Thea must remain with her. anyone who looks closely might just catch a glimpse of longing to go in her sea green eyes, but her expression is neutrality itself.

Rain splatters down in a constant, gentle sound upon everyone's rain slickers. Jessamin's face, streaked with dirt from her weeding chores, soon looks more a muddy mess that a kidlet might have after an afternoon of makingand eatingmud pies. With just a few minutes to spare, she had barely enough time to get her rain slicker on, and did not quite succeed in getting the hood up. The left shoulder of her slicker is oddly raised and wriggling about and… squawking? Each of her fellow Candidates gets a smile and a nod from her, though the only sound escaping her lips is a sigh of relief at the apparent absence of runners.

Rio hadn't been making much noise up to this point, but had instead been getting ready as they'd been instructed to do. Fifteen minutes had been enough time by far for Rio to get his things ready, since he had relatively few things anyway. He's out when the others come out, with his things, and wearing his rain slicker. He doesn't notice Thea's look, mainly because he's a little busy being hurried, so he doesn't get left behind. But he has enough manners at least to bow respectfully to Thea and D'had, even though he doesn't say anything.

The moment Phylicia encounters the falling moisture is the moment the hood on her coat comes up. Even the annoyance of possibly not having a first aid kit is not weighing her down down to keep a bit of a smile from her face. The rain certainly isn't effecting her at all, besides having her hood up. She doesn't head to D'had or V'dim, but instead settles on one of the assistants, patiently waiting her turn as gloves get drawn out from one of the pockets of her coat.

And, yes, Rished's there. He's in his coat - pulled on while they were trekking outside with some masterful maneuvering of his bags in the process - and is being guided to … well, wherever they're being directed. Gloves somehow get involved, perhaps drawn from his woodworking kit. There's not much to be said or done, so he'll just be that complacent guy.

Satoris aims for whichever dragon Natishen does, having apparently decided to keep tabs on the younger lad. He has no hood and only a basic cloak and it's fairly quick that the rain begins to plaster his hair to his neck. Fortunately, Satoris /still/ manages to look fairly manly despite it. It's a learned thing, perhaps, come of working outdoors so much.

Natishen walks out into the rain, uncaring as it falls upon him. He's a child - being wet and/or muddy is simply a fact of life to him. He throws a hesitant glance towards Siebeth, then scoots towards one of the weyrlingmasters' dragons, peering up at the dragon's broad back. "Hello," he whispers to the great beast as he settles the bag more firmly on his back and looks back over his shoulder, his eyes widening to see Satoris there. However, there's no nervousness at being shadowed by the older boy; in fact, he offers a hesitant smile to the miner-Candidate before letting his gaze slide to Weyrsecond and weyrwoman, awaiting further instructions.

Candidates and riders matched, bags are stored - tied up on dragon straps. All mounted up and straps double checked. D'had sends a wink down towards Thea, "We'll be back soon," he notes. Well he and Siebith will. The candidates, they'll be a good few days. Once all are secure however the signal is given and dragons take to the air. Its a straight flight, no between, the place not being all that far for the beasts, though on foot it would likely make for quite a hike through the wilderness.


Survival Camp - Campfire Square

//During the day this area is a small clearing that sits just big enough to land four dragons in it, though by night it becomes an inferno where a fire is built up that licks its stray bits of lights to the ground just before the barracks nearby. The two barracks sit across from each other in strong contrast, the leader barracks being a comfortable modern barracks that looks clean and kept in good eminence while the follower barracks has a sharp destitute about it, looking that the ivy and decay is a day away from making the whole thing collapse.


V'dim is efficient if nothing else, so it is apparent that he's been here before he headed back to the clearing to pick up the Candidates for this little jog into the twighlight zone of wilderness survival. There is wood laid for a fire in the circle underneath a tarp, thankfully for the light rain still falls, even here. A stack of bundled heavy canvas tarps large enough to hold two Candidates apiece are piled off to one side with lengths of rope laid out for them to hang the tarps over v-style. Beside the firepit under another tarp there are some cooking utensils and enough meat and stew vegetables for one meal. And yes, first aid supplies. That is all.

V'dim never walks when he can stalk, nor stands when he can loom, so stalk he does into that clearing with a mild and rusty command, "Candidates, grab a tarp - there are hammocks and blankets rolled inside them - and head over there," pointing towards the alcove, "and string your tarps between two trees, your hammock will hang just underneath it."

Rio is never happier than when he's on a dragon's back. He grins widely during the trip, light rain notwithstanding. Once they land, he's off and following V'dim's instructions as well as he can. He's not the outdoorsy type, so….this might take a while. "Yes, sir," he offers as he collects his tarp, hammock, and blankets.

Jessamin is one of the first to dismount from her assigned dragon, somehow finding the strength to keep from grimacing at V'dim. After all, there was still a chancehowever slimof working with the man at some point. Why make waves? All she does is salute him in acknowledgement of his order, her shoes squelching in the mud as she heads over to the tarps. Rio gets a smile from her, and she offers, "Want some help with that?"

Satoris makes a sound under his breath that might be displeasure. Why haven't they rebuilt cabins? Probably just for the excuse to make the candidates miserable. He exhales in a slow sigh and starts trudging towards the tarps once he's dismounted. His pack is still slung over one shoulder and he hefts a tarp, complete with hammocks and blankets. He glances over in Natishen's direction. "Want to give me a hand?"

Phylicia slides down the side of the dragon she was on, again patiently waiting for the truely antsy people to dismount first. After receiving her pack once on the ground, she looks around the camp. Her face is serious as she gives the camp a survey, and a relieved smile breaks on her face as she sees the first aid kit, before she's trudging over carefully to pick up her own tarp, and examining its contents from within her hood in silence, as she then looks to the area they're supposed to set them up.

Rio nods to Jessamin's question, since by the time she asks, he's trying to put his up…and having some troubles with it. He looks to Jessamin and nods. "Thanks, that'd be great," he returns with a smile. This is a little bit more difficult than weaving cloth….

M'nol has been here since they first left the Weyr, jogging along at the rear of the pack to help any who fall behind and generally looking very much like the stocky tail of a long, wiggly dog. The rocky bulk of Faraeth appears from /between/ as they finally arrive at the camp, spiraling down to land softly away from the gathering. M'nol moves to the brown long enough to remove his flask of water and any supplies that might have been loaded in his saddle are quickly unloaded. He does offer brief nods to his friends, but stays safely out of V'dim's way unless someone should do something stupid.

"S- Sure." Natishen isn't about to look a gift runner - or protector - in the mouth. Especially not with a certain Candidate glancing in his direction from time to time with a scowl. Glancing at V'dim warily, he scoots off after Satoris, as eager to be out of the way of the Weyrlingmaster as he is to avoid the gaze of his nemesis. "Y' ever done this before?" he asks the miner in a low voice. "Camping, I mean."

Rished, for his part, has paired up with another candidate to assemble their hammock with a minimum of fuss. His bags are propped under a tree to keep them relatively dry and safe, while he remains more or less distant throughout. Light conversation is had between him and his partner in not-quite-crime, but the lad is otherwise adrift in whatever thoughts are filtering about through his mind.

"Last time I stood," Satoris explains to Natishen as he unrolls the tarp. He holds the blankets and hamoocks out to the boy. "Hold onto these and try to keep them from getting wet." A couple of candidates, not thinking, unroll their tarp and shake it out; dumping those precious blankets right into a puddle of mud. "And before that, I assisted with a camp." He shrugs slightly. "Team building exercises or something like that." Fortunately, being an outdoorsman sort, it doesn't take terribly long for Sat to get their tarp up.

D'had hangs around long enough to make sure that everything is unloaded from the dragons and V'dim doesn't need anything more. Once that's been assured he's mounting back up and heading out. No need for him to stay out in the rain. There's plenty of paperwork still waiting for him on his desk.

V'dim and the other AWLMs are there, moving about and supervising, but not helping, no. This is survival camp and they're to learn by doing and helping one another. This is what they'll repeatedly tell the ones asking for them for help. After explaining that the fire materials and the food are there for the Candidates to do with what they will, they back off and observe with eyes that are sharp to watch for trouble and step in if need be.

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