Breakfast Introductions

Xanadu Weyr - Caverns

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.

Derin has taken his morning respite in the caverns after having gotten his wher settled into sleep for the day. The miner looks tired even as he slouches somewhat in his chair, a half-eaten plate of breakfast in front of him and a mug of klah in one hand. He's at a table out of the way of the main drag on the caverns, his usual spot off in the corner. His eyes are focused on the mug of klah as he swirls it around, wasting time before bed.

Where this might be the tail-end of a wherhandler's day, it's only the beginning for Xanadu's newest Weyrwoman. Sorrin drags herself in at what she normally would consider an obnoxious hour, and makes her way over to the tables and grabs not one, but two mugs, while murmuring in a voice reminiscent of one of those shambling creatures in a horror tale. "Klaah." Somehow, she manages not to pour it all over herself, and balances both mugs along with a plate before wandering aimlessly to find a place to sit. Since rider and crafter of the Weyr alike are unknown to her, she just settles herself down and drains half a mug before she even realizes that there's someone sitting across from her, looking quite so intently at his own glass. Blink. "Hello." She manages, then yawns into her cup.

Derin blinks, finally looking up blearily from his mug as he hears a voice at his table despite the scent of sulphurous firestone that emanates from the miner's hair and clothes, maybe that's the reaon people mostly avoid him, someone needs a bath and a change of clothes. Brown eyes glance over the tablemate, whom he doesn't rightly recognize. "H'lo." Voice tiredly greets and the miner manages, if barely, to straighten his posture in the company of a female.

Controversy often follows the acting Wingleader, more so today and the past sevenday than prior occasions - but Keziah's screaming at him matches the hype about a jail break whispered by excited story tellers. The man has a swaggar about him, dressed full flight gear, as he struts into the caverns. By the looks of his attire and the dirt smudged onto his face (on closer look it's bruising from the rumored fight), he's been up for a stretch already, likely even accomplished an early morning sweep. The man disappears into the kitchens for a time, also rumored to have taken to a gal back there, but on his way out, a good five or ten later, his eyes catch the sight of Derin. He takes time to fill a plate before heading that way. As he approaches his eyes turn to Sorrin, if he catches her gaze, he'll nod, but verbally, he greets both, "Morning."

If nothing else, the smell of firestone might be considered some measure of improvement compared to the smell of runner dung that normally greets Sorrin during her morning rounds. "Miner, right? You've got that look to you." She asks, offering a sort of sleepy half-smile of her own over the edge of her cup, having picked up on it from not only the scent, but the usual dark smudges that usually accompany those of the minecraft. "And I would bet my dragon that you're a wherhandler." She muses, taking a long swig to finish off the first of her mugs, still rubbing it between her fingers for a time to let the warmth seep into them. "You look about dead on your feet, but this is the end of the day for you, isn't it?"

It would be hard for Sorrin not to notice the arrival of Ers'lan, even if she's still new enough not to know /most/ of what they say about him. Still, her eyes follow him him for a brief moment in that way women do when they have seen a man who is more than just a little appealing. Then, as if unashamed of this, she offers him a charming smile and a tip of her empty mug. "G'morning."

Derin finally takes a sip of his klah. "Aye, miner, jus' got m'wher t'sleep, workin' on gettin' enough energy t'manage a bath." It was a long night of digging, picking and hauling most likely. "Names Derin, or Rin iff'n y'prefer." He would offer a hand in greeting but that would require moving, and he's not really feeling like moving at the moment. At Ers'lan's arrival, the wherhandler shoots the acting wingleader a tired smile. "Mornin' Lan. How was yer night?" The miner grins a little as he asks this, he's heard rumours, oh yes.

Ers'lan settles his plate down in front of a chair beside Derin, blue gaze flashing back to Sorrin for all he does notice the charming smile she offers him. Lan returns it with one of his own as he pushes the chair back with a foot while unbuckling his jacket it and tossing it over the chair next to him, leaving him in a shirt that is more or less fitted. There is no doubt about it that this man is taking his time to indulge in returning the favor to Sorrin, with a half quirked grin on his face, his eyes tracking her all the same. That is, until he settles down in his chair, drawing his gaze to Derin with a knowing chuckle, his seafarring accent still strong regardless of harper training and time spent at the Weyr, "Narh as good as some be," he takes up a fork, "be better than others."

Among these others, Sorrin seems to have the most trained of an accent, although it does have a strange lilt to it at times that sneaks through. "Klah's a good start, but sometimes after a hard day even tha's not enough." She starts on her own second cup, taking it slower this time, only taking a small sip before starting in on a meatroll. "'m Sorrin. Yumeth's rider." She doesn't offer any titles, or even the color of her dragon. "'s good to meet a crafter. Been meanin' to get down and see the crafthalls, but we're still settling in." The wavy-haired woman certainly is a new face within the Weyr, so perhaps that explains some of it.

If nothing else, being away from the Weyr leaves Sorrin shameless in appreciating the sight of some of the more athletic men who call Xanadu home. She has some politeness in her, though, and averts her eyes to look the other rider in the face rather than elsewhere. She does lift an eyebrow though, looking between the two. "Sounds like a story here…"

Derin does manage a tired smile to the woman, "Well met Sorrin, rider to Yumeth. Newly transferred, or jus' visitin'?" He asks curiously. He doesn't ask of title or dragon colour, they don't matter much to him even though they probably should, though he didn't offer his own official title either, just the fact that he's a miner and wherhandler, no rank or colour given. Deep brown eyes travel back to the acting wingleader, then, and he grins. "So, y'gonna tell yer ol' drinkin' buddy 'bout it? Or am i t'be left t'm'imagination?" Because his imagination could be scary, really.

"Reckon thar be always a story with me…" the man gives a roguish smile, piling some of the eggs and hot cakes onto his fork, devouring a couple fork fulls before motioning to his swollen lip and turning to show off his shiner, "Thea's Seryth thar be makin a couple of us play a bout of fisticuffs." And with that, he swallows and takes the moment to include his own name, having caught pieces of the introduction earlier, "'M Ers'lan. Call me Lan iffin ya like." A playful grin turns toward Derin, looking awful proud of himself too, chewing on a few more pieces of food as he's asked for more details. Again with a rumbling sort of chuckle, "Aye, aye. Yer imagination be limited ta yer holes ya dig," he ribs his friend, admitting, since he already told some of it, "Reckon a wrong kiss of a lassy can get a fella inta his very own hole. Narh so pleasant tha."

"Transferred." Sorrin pauses, as if she's not quite sure that the word really applies in her case. She lets it go with a half-shrug, though, not about to go fishing around for a better term when the end result is the same. "Thea can be a pretty convincing woman when she wants to be." Even if the reality of the situation likely would have lead her back to a Weyr with or without the Weyrwoman's intervention. She lets her gray-brown eyes flick back to Ers'lan, taking in his name and nodding with a quirk of a smile. "Lan, then. A pleasure." A pleasure indeed.

"Seems an interesting evening. Too bad I missed out on the fun." She chuckles, savoring her klah and seeming amused more than anything else. "I thought most people just stuck to their bedchambers when a queen rose. Guess times change." There is a teasing edge to her voice. "You seem in one piece, though. Question remains, was the kiss worth it?" Sometimes, one has to live vicariously through the exploits of others.

Derin chuckles, he locked himself in his den with Dersk when word of Seryth's imminent rising had reached his ears, he learned his lesson from the tavern brawl last time he stayed out during a flight. "Glad I stayed put, y'dragonriders're insane when a gold rises, 'specially a senior." This is one thing that makes him glad whers don't rise very often. "Who'd ya try t'play smoochiesmoochie with, Lan?" Hey, the miner is curious to hear from the man himself. Derin's never been in confinement, thankfully, his parents would skin him alive if he did anything to get put away even temporarily, but that's beside the point now isn't it? And then attention flutters back to the woman, even as her attention seems to be mostly on Ers'lan, the miner chuckles. "Transferred, aye, well, welcome t'Xanadu then." The comment about Thea's pursuasiveness earns a deep rumble of a chuckle from the miner. "Aye, she kin be very pursuasive, prolly why she's senior." Well, it makes sense to him anyway.

Ers'lan grows quiet simply because he's trying to shovel in food as quick as possible, eyes turning to any indication of time in between mouth-fulls. This guy was on a schedule of his own making apparently. Yet, he does listen and acknowledge Sorrin, contemplating the information about Thea with a knowing smirk, tapping his wingknot to express an understanding of Thea's skill at convincing. It's more toward the topic of the night that has him take a moment away from inhaling his food. "Can narh say I be wishin fer 'nother night like tha be," leaning back on his chair, he regards the two cups of klah Sorrin took, "Reckon yee had a busy night yerself… needin two mugs thar." A pointed tip of his chin at Sorrin, before his attention resettles to his friend. As for Derin's insane remark, he agrees with a devious laugh, "Aye aye… We be bout the craziest lot out thar. I did narh stay with 'em other blokes 'round Thea. Decided ta make haste ta the tavern, since Zhaoth 'ad no chance at'all." Browns rarely catch golds and Zhaoth's personal track record of only one win since he hatched didn't do the brown any favors. As for the topic of the kiss, he shakes his head, "Nay, t'was narh worth it. She be like a fish." He does shrug his shoulders at Derin, "Dun reckon I know. Some pretty blond haired lass with blue eyes. Did narh grab her name." Typical Lan, kiss first ask questions later.

The comment about 'crazy' dragonriders has Sorrin giving a small laugh over the edge of her mug, shaking her head. "Of course. Don't you know tha's what the dragons look for when they impress to a human. Got to have a bit of the crazy, otherwise you dun fit in." It feels as if she hasn't smiled this much in ages - it's good being back. "And thanks for welcome." For all that she knew, her off-color gold might just be the next one that starts a fight, "Can't say that flights thrill me too much, though. You want to talk about a cold fish, the riders at Ierne are about as cold as they get. Wouldn't mind it so much if there was at least some /passion/ to it, you know?" It would at least help make up for the fact that she's never managed to find a steady weyrmate.

Looking at the empty bottom of her second mug, Sorrin just turns it upside down and leaves it on the table, folding one arm against her as ther picks at a meatroll. "Shame, though. If you're gonna get into a fight over a girl, it should at least be worth it." Raising that same hand, she taps on the mug, and shakes her head. "Just got here yesterday. "m not used to the sounds yet. Couldn't sleep." Of course, Yumeth talking up a storm about being back in a Weyr certainly didn't help matters, either.

Derin finishes his own klah, just the one mug for him, though, as it gets settled on the table nearby his breakfast remnants. He glances from rider to rider, arching a thick brow at the mention of the lass being like a fish, he smirks. "Cold an' wet? Or stinky?" His attempt at a joke, really, a shame he's not too good at it. "R'ckon Daoi'd kill me iff'n I went an' kissed 'nother lass." Not that he would do so, it took him how long just to kiss her? The miner leans back on his chair, crossing strong arms over his chest. "Sounds like something whers an' dragons have in common, hafta be short of sanity to bond a wher too seems like." Of course he's not quite as insane as most dragonriders he knows. The comment of Iernien riders gets a chuckle from Rin. "Well, mayhaps y'kin find yerself a decent one here, no?"

Ers'lan continues to chow down, making a huge dent in his overloaded plate. It could be that he only fits in one meal a day at times that he takes what he can get when he gets it. He does remark though to Sorrin's comment of smiling, "Git used ta it, yah look good with it on." A wink for her as he bobs his head up toward the front, lifting a finger to excuse himself as he retreats to fetch a good pint of veggie juice. Upon his return, resettling down he shrugs his shoulders at Sorrin's comment, "Aye, reckon with flight maddness goin on in me head, did narh really think bout 'er after I be punched first." Nope, soon as he was punched he wanted to return the favor. Lan rolls his shoulder at the cold fish of Ierne, "Ya can be findin passion 'ere I reckon-" a charming grin toward her as he implies what he would normally say if he had liquor in him. For now, he drinks clamato juice.

Sorrin cocks an eyebrow at Derin's comment regarding the fish-girl, and barely contains a laugh, covering her mouth slightly with one hand. "We'll see. So far, I have to say the company is better." Pushing her picked apart breakfast to the side, Sorrin stacks the two mugs atop her plate. "It's more up to Yumeth than it is to me, and so far I can't say I'm too fond of her tastes." There is that half-beat that it takes for the mental relay of what she said to reach the dragon and rebound, and then the woman just winces visibly. "And now I'm in trouble." She rolls her eyes, and rubs one hand at her temple.

Slowly, plate and mugs in tow, Sorrin gets to her feet. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to excuse myself. I've got a dragon who needs placating." There is another wince to her gray-brown eyes, but somehow Sorrin still manages to smile wryly. "Hope you have a good rest, Rin, and well…" There is a glance back at Ers'lan. "I hope you have a better day than yesterday." That's about as much as she can hope for. With that, she goes to hand in her dishes and deal with her dragon, who insists upon giving a run down of every male who's ever caught her and the good points of their character. Ugh.

Derin chuckles quietly, "Iff'n I've learned anythin' 'tis that couplin' doesna a'ways hafta be th'result of a flight." Not that he's had much experience, none at all actually, but then he's no dragonrider obviously. "There're some good men 'ere." The miner shrugs a little. "I'm sure ye'll find someone, Sorrin." Ers'lan gets a chuckle as the wherhandler probably knows what the acting wingleader would say if this were the tavern rather than the caverns. And as the goldrider gets to her feet, Derin inclines his head. "Y'have a good day, now." Wherhandler offers to Sorrin before eyeing his plate and mug and trying to decide whether he has enough energy to head for the baths now or if he might need another mug or two of klah first.

Ers'lan smiles at Sorrin's compliment about the company here already, "Aye, Derin be right. Ya dun narh need a dragon tellin ya when yer body does it fer ya. Passion be in the eye of the beholder. Aye." This one, he's trouble, drinking up his clam juice with a side ways eye waggle to Derin as Sorrin gets up. Setting his drink down he too stands, "Aye, t'will. Be seein ya. Good day." And with that, he resettles in his seat, turning pointedly at Derin, "Reckon she's cute…" his eyes following her tracking away from them, noting, "Has a good rump…" then, with a heavy hand going to Derin's shoulder, "Drinks tonigh yah?" A squeeze on his friend's shoulder, "Best be back to the wing now mate. Good seein ya." And so the brownrider shovels in the last of his food, scoops up his plates, chugs his veggie juice, then carries the plate and glass in one had, ensnaring his riding jacket with the other.

Derin does watch as the woman gets up, he doesn't comment on cuteness or rump shape though. "Aye, I s'ppose, jus' dunna go gettin' inta trouble with th'womens 'gain, Lan m'friend." As for drinks tonight, the miner nods, "Acourse, s'long as there ain't no other dragons gettin' ready t'go up. And s'long as Daoi doesna wanna do nothin' t'night." Yes, the miner is already controlled by only one female, he really oughta take lessons from his buddy to learn how to handle them women.

Ers'lan gives a mischievous look to Derin, "Nahh… the women love it…" he chuckles with a secretive wink, "Who else would pinch 'em and love 'em like I do, huh?" As for the talk of drinks tonight based on what Daoi had in mind, he snorts, "Yer comin. Tis business, ya tell 'er that 'n she won't give ya nothin fer it." And with that he goes to deposit plate and head back out with jacket going up over his head as arms slide into it.

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