
Xanadu Weyr - Meadow
A large, slightly rolling meadow is set high enough above the riverbank on both sides to avoid suffering from flooding, healthy ground cover and grass spreading out from either side of the dividing river. Scattered amongst the meadow are a variety of buildings, each with a narrow path leading up to it from a main, winding road. Some are set under a few trees, while others sit by themselves.
Stables and a smithy are settled on their own plots, while trees border the western edge of the meadow, and a faint outline of a fence can be seen to the north.
It's a terrible, terrible fate. Satoris is stuck watching kids. The poor man is overwhelmed. At least apprentices have some level of cognitive ability. Or they've been beaten into submission. Weyrbrats, however? are not as easily cowed. He's taken them to the field, away from landing sites of dragons or nooks and crannies they can get into. Right now, they're running about fairly wild and one of the weyr's nannies is trying to keep them focused. Satoris is on "herding" duty: hanging on the outskirts and running down anyone who tries to leave the designated area.
Morlanol is on the opposite side of the meadow from Satoris, wrangling as well. Though it wasn't that long ago that he'd been part of a group of kids similar to this one, but now that he was a candidate he was expected to show a certain amount of maturity. He'd just turned one young child back towards the main group when he spotted two kids hiding out behind the overtaxed nanny. The boy reaches up and pulls on the girl's hair… hard. Morlanol starts towards them with a loud "Oi!"
Satoris is about to move forward as well, when one kid points at a pot sitting nearby. A kid that was trying to sneak by, but got distracted. "It's moving, sir!" Yes, he's got them calling him sir. Terrible, isn't it? The journeyman-turned-candidate turns sharply and looks at the pot in question and the lone egg in it. "Erk," he utters under his breath, moving to snatch up the pot. "Either you go back to the others, or come with me, but those are your options." The boy, of course, decides to stick with the miner. "Morl!" he bellows, trying to get the other candidate's attention. There's a slight panic in his tone.
Morlanol looks up when he hears his name, confused for a moment, then sees what even he recognizes as an eggpot rocking. He cuts the fastest path he can towards Satoris, whacking the hair-pulling boy's hand as he rushes past. He skids to a halt just short of Satoris and his kid-in-tow, "How'd tha' get there?"
"I had it there. It didn't hatch." Satoris explains brusquely as he shoves the pot at Morlanol. If the other takes it, he'll then pull various bits of meat wrapped in paper from a pocket. "Here. Yours. It's hatching and I want nothing to do with it." He already got stuck with three of the things!
Sad No More Egg is hatching! It wiggles, almost frantically.
Morlanol eyes get big for a minute, he pauses, confused, then reaches out and takes the pot, removing the lid to allow the egg some breathing room. He kneels down to bring the egg closer to the ground. He looks up at Satoris with scared eyes, "What do I do?"
Satoris gives a brief shrug, glancing around for any escaping kids as he hands Morlanol the meat. The child with them just stares, wide-eyed and fascinated. "I'm told you hold the meat out for it. They're starving, so any food is good, and it… helps the impression or something." More kids start to approach, intent on crowding around, and Satoris and the other nanny set to keeping them back — no need for a small child to have a 'lizard!
Morlanol starts to pour the sand out of the pot, after a few moments remembering that he should remember not to let the egg fall out and puts his hand out to catch it. Once he has the egg in hand, he accepts the meat, still looking more than a bit nervous
"I would set the egg down," Satoris warns, "they can… burst out pretty suddenly and they're disoriented. You don't want it to fall or something." As he speaks, he grabs a kid by the collar to keep them from lurching forward. The egg starts to spiderweb with cracks- very soon now.
Morlanol sets the egg down on the pile of warm sand. His hands are shaking as he kneels there, waiting with his breath caught to see what comes out of the egg. He holds the meat before him, staring at the egg.
The Spirit of Jazz Blue Hatchling |
If one didn't know better, they might swear this little firelizard is white. The blue that envelopes him is so very pale as to be nearly white. There are marked points, however, where the blue darkens so much as to become almost black. About halfway up his neck it begins to darken until his face is enveloped in darkness. Both fore and rear paws suffer the same fate, as does the spaded tip of his tail. His wings, however, are a marbled myriad of color: from blue-white, to that midnight black, and everything in between. The colors swirl and blend together with little rhyme or reason. |
Satoris seems content to stay back. Far back. And keep the kids back. This is all Morlanol's game now; he's not even daring to /look/ at the thing. The kids, however, are commenting frantically on how cute, or gross it is, or even how badly they wish /they/ had one.
The Spirit of Jazz Blue Hatchling does come tumbling from his egg. Into the sand. It leaves him covered both in egg goo and sand. Really not a good combination, but right now, he's /hungry/. Eyes whirl red and the creature creels.
Morlanol holds the meat out to the hatchling, hands still shaking, but eyes only for the oddly mottled fire lizard, not noticing that some of the egg goop has sprayed onto his wrists. He humms softly, like Keziah showed him with the runners, "C'mere. I's okay, li'le one. I's okay, have some meat."
"Just dangle it out for him, but keep your fingers clear," Satoris mutters, as if trying not to be too helpful, but unable to avoid it. One, rather small girl, threatens to get far too near and he just scoops her up and slings her onto his shoulders. A very swift movement, but she's left giggling and has a better vantage point than anyone… of the meadow, at least.
The Spirit of Jazz Blue Hatchling looks around, but can't find meat too readily accessab- there! He practically launches himself at Morlanol and snatches up that meat, gulping it down, before creeling loudly for /more/.
Morlanol snatches his fingers back as the flit nearly bites them off, the hurriedly offers it another hunk of meat, and another. The smile on his face is like no other, "He's so diff'ren' than I 'spected."
"Aww, I was hoping he'd find me," the girl on Satoris bemoans. He rolls his eyes and turns around, setting her back down. "Different?" the man asks, raising an eyebrow. Most of the kids go back to the game they were playing and he positions himself to watch. "Howso? And keep feeding him. They're hungry for a while."
Morlanol continues to stuff the flit with meat, contemplating a name as he does so, "I's like I c'n feel his hunger. 'E's voracious… an' his colorin's so pretty, like agate."
Satoris makes a noise in his throat; a form of agreement. "You'll want to ask around for some oil, too. I ain't got much, or I'd offer." He watches the kids, folding his arms. "Wish I had… I dunno. Repairs or something today. Anything but this." or laundry.
Morlanol nods, trying not to unsettle the blue flit on his wrist as he continues to feed it's creeling maw, "I'll track down Thea or Rei, they shoul' be able t' help me. How long will he do nothin' bu' ea' 'n' sleep."
"Talk to some of the others in the barracks, they've mostly got 'lizards or know about 'em. And… he'll mostly eat and sleep for a while, honestly." Satoris shrugs. "Some people train theirs. I just try to keep mine out of trouble." He sighs as a couple kids start to go running off the field and he has to break into a brief run to chase them down and herd them back to the group.
Morlanol continues to feed the blue until it gives a giant burp and collapses in his arms, snoozing. He slides the blue hatchling into the front pocket of his overalls and follows Satoris, the strange grin still playing on his face, herding a few other kids, and whapping the hand of the hair-pulling boy again, "Don' do tha', i's mean."
Morlanol and Satoris are stuck on kidlet herding duty. There is a nanny, who's trying to keep them occupied in a game, but one knows that never works. Satoris looks to be suffering from a rather high level of stress as he deals with a particularly driven child who's just /dedicated/ to trying to get away. In fact, he's running after the kid right now.
Morlanol continues to feed the blue until it gives a giant burp and collapses in his arms, snoozing. He slides the blue hatchling into the front pocket of his overalls and follows Satoris, the strange grin still playing on his face, herding a few other kids, and whapping the hand of the hair-pulling boy again, "Don' do tha', i's mean."
Zevida is moving out into the meadow, quietly as the say goes on. The running child catches her attention and she's quick to scoop him up without too much of a protest. "Now, why're you running?" She questions softly and tsks, "you'll get in trouble and you'll get no desert after dinner." A fond smile for the boy before she starts carrying him back towards the group, giving Satoris an amused look as well as Morlanol.
Satoris freezes up as Zevida picks up the child and all of a sudden, he looks even /more/ flustered and the tips of his ears turn pink. "They don't want to be kept in the meadow," he mutters, glancing over to the other kids. /Most/ are enjoying whatever game the nanny has devised. She likely figured it best that Sat just stay on wrangling duty.
Morlanol sidesteps, redirecting another child back towards the main groups. He waves to Zevida, causing the odd lump inside the pocket of his coveralls to shift, "H'lo Weyrwoman, joining us on wrangling duty?"
Zevida giggles softly as Satoris flushes, settling down the boy and giving him a look. "No more running, you've got to pay attention." A pat on his head before she turns towards Morlanol and shakes her head. "Wrangling? They're not herdbeasts, just like to have fun. Have to be gentle with them, just don't talk to them like they're babies.." A shrug before she gives Satoris a curious look.
Satoris grunts slightly, "If I'm running after them and pointing them in the other direction, it's wrangling." He folds his arms, looking back at the group. "Whoever assigns chores is out of their mind. Laundry, mending, and running after kids. Half the laundry shrank, the women in the caverns redid my mending, and these kids are …. too much."
Morlanol runs to catch a kid before he disappears into the forest and redeposit him with with the group, "Stay here an' lis'en." Then he looks up at Zevida, "Wha' he sai', they're no easier t' han'le than th' runners. I'd rather do th' mendin'."
Zevida gives the pair a look, eyes rolling. "It isn't wrangling." She states once more then frowns at Satoris. "Stop your whining, you're a candidate. You think you'd be used to doing /work/ and it's not that hard if you pay attention." Towards Morlanol, she only rolls her eyes again. "Men."
"This isn't work," Satoris points out, near to glowering. "And mending?" He holds out a hand, "I can barely hold a needle. Some people aren't suited to certain kinds of work! I wouldn't send a weaver into the mine and expect them to be able to do the same job the miners do."
"Th' pro'lem is tha' they keep runnin' in diff'rent directions t' try t' trick us." Morlanol sounds thoroughly defeated by the kids' behavior, "This wasn' even my chore t'day, I had t' weed th' garden, I'm jus' helpin'. 'Course Cen'll prolly say I pulled more flowers 'n weeds."
Zevida gives him a pointed look, "and yet.. You were using candidates for your mine." She reminds faintly, folding her arms over her chest and smiling. "Just do the jobs, Satoris.. Honestly, you are the last person I expected to whine." Morlanol gets a look, "nice of you to help, but, you don't need to, either."
"When it was being built, to haul off loose rock, branches, and the like. Menial labor." Satoris is grumpy and it's evident. And then she goes and mentions that he's whining. There's a deep rumble in his chest; almost evident of a growl. It's clear that upset him, quite a bit. Instead of saying anything further, he just turns and aims to walk to the other side of the field. He'll herd over /there/.
Morlanol forcibly grabs the hair-pulling boy and re-positions him behind a group of other boys after yet another girl yelps in pain, "I sai' stop!" Then he looks to Zevida, "I migh' as well practice, who knows if'n I'll ge' this chore m'self 'fore th' hatchin'."
Zevida is frowning at Satoris as he stomps off towards the other side, "baby." She mutters under her breath before turning towards Morlanol and she nods. "Wouldn't worry about it, not outside all the time. Normally story time is quieter." She offers, shrugging again with a smile.
Kids overwhelm Satoris. Jobs that he's physically incapable of doing well — such as sewing holes in various clothing — upset him. So being called a whiner when he's already upset that he can't seem to get something right? Well, it's just continuing that downward spiral. Nevermind that he /can't drink/. The poor man doesn't even look quite right, suffering from being unable to drink, even though it's only been a matter of days. He's lost sleep!
Morlanol shrugs, patting a young girl on the rump to re-direct her back to the group, "P'rhaps, bu' I'm pre'y sure they'll be energetic either way. An' tha's th' har' part. I though' *I* was a pro'lem chil'."
Zevida is watching Satoris, if anyone is looking closely at the goldrider. She keeps looking in his direction even though she's facing Morlanol. There's a pause before she answers. "Aren't always so bad, really. If you upset them, they aren't going to listen."
Satoris just crouches down on that side of the field, elbows propped on knees and hands just falling within. He watches the kids, ice blue eyes narrowed with a focused intensity. Fine. He'll focus on the job then. And, well, it works, in a fashion. Most of the kids seem a bit too afraid, all of a sudden, to even go in that direction. It does mean an influx running towards Zevida and Morlanol, though.
"OI!" Morlanol is nearly overrun by three children all at once. They knock him over, one sitting on each arm while the other digs the sleeping blue out of his pocket and begins playing with it like a stuffed animal, hugging him and examining his wings. Morlanol's eyes widen in fear, "Oi! Stoppit! Le' 'im sleep an' leave 'im be!"
Zevida is staring, now, at Satoris blankly. But as Morlanol is taken down the goldrider is quick to move and grab at the children and haul them /off/. "Put it down, and get your butts into the Weyr /now/." There's a harsh look towards the nanny in scolding. "Shame on you, too. You'll get an according action as well as these whelps." She snaps harshly and then she's pointing for the children to move their rears.
The nanny mutters something about it being the candidates' jobs, not hers. Someone's misled, or lazy, or just plain dumb. She grabs a few of the more unruly ones and begins to work at leading them all to the Weyr proper. Satoris archs an eyebrow at Zevida, but shrugs and moves to follow. His chore /is/ tending to the kids… even if he is utterly horrid at it. The man is completely incapable of properly connecting with them. Especially when forced sober.
Morlanol sits up, rubbing his head and wrists briefly before he accepts the much irritated Agate from Zevida and mumbles a quiet, "Thanks, they caugh' m' by su'prise." He strokes Agate gently on the head and back until he grumbles in discontent and slips back to sleep. Morl slips him back into the pocket and starts to stand.
Zevida is giving the nanny a look, then making mental note of her appearance. "That woman'll get what's coming. Lazy tart." Zevida grumbles and then she's casting Satoris a look. "Aren't you about done?" She asks, "with the chore?" Then Morlanol gets a shake of her head. "Not a problem, going to have a talk with the nannies. They're not raising these kids proper.."
Satoris slows up, glancing from Zevida to the nanny and kids, then back. He takes a long breath, attempting his best to remain calm. He's /not/ whining. He wasn't. "Probably," he answers, watching Zevida. Almost warily, perhaps. It has been some time since he sent his gift and he never /really/ found out what she thought. And he kind of talked himself out of Thea's demand he find Zevida as soon as possible. "How… uhm, how is Avaeth?" There. A neutral question. Right?
Morlanol nods, wiping the dirt off his butt after he stands. When Satoris turns back and starts to talk, Morl senses an opportunity to learn something without being in the way. He notices one more kid stalking around in the edge of the forest, so he grabs it and puts it on its way at the tail in of the others with a moderate shove and a sharp glare.
Zevida takes a slow breath, nodding her head. "Good." A pause and the woman begins looking uncomfortable herself. "She's.. Good. I'm good. The eggs.. Are good, had a feel of them, myself." Another pause and she frowns. "Still hoping she won't flip out come time for the Touching." She smiles slightly, "about that rock you gave me, Sat.. I uh.. Broke it open.." She frowns, just slightly. "Why would you give me something worth that much?" Morlanol and the kid get a brief look, but she's turning back towards the other miner once the kid is set to the right path.
Satoris blinks a few times at Zevida, surprise etched on his harsh features. "I… told you, in the note. It… reminded me of you." He's suddenly very awkward, like a younger man trying to ask a girl out. Or something of the sort. "Most people… don't see the you I do. They see a woman who's strong and all business, but I see how beautiful and amazing you are, it's just kind of hard to get to." He clears his throat, suddenly turning a deep red. Paying compliments, in front of others even, is /not/ his schtick. But this may be his only chance, proper..
Morlanol takes a step backwards, slipping into the shadows at the edge of the meadow, trying his best to be unobtrusive. He steps on a twig in the process with a loud crack, then grins sheepishly and takes another step back.
Zevida frowns, "well… At first.. I thought it was just a rock.." She murmurs, "then someone told me to.. Break it open and see.. And.. /Shells/ Satoris." But, she stops there as he continues and, though it's hard to see, her cheeks go red and she ducks her head shyly. "Sorry, Sat…" She murmurs, moving up close to him and pecking a kiss on his cheek. "I forgive you." Is whispered softly, and then she's moving away to keep them from being in an even more embarrassing situation. "Do me proud on the Sands, Sat.."
Despite the stick Morlanol's stepped upon, Satoris doesn't even look in that direction. He's far too distracted right now. In response to the kiss on his cheek, he reaches out, swiftly, to fleetingly grasp at Zevida's hand. "I've missed you," he says, in a soft voice. "I'm… sorry." He glances to the forest, in the direction of the mine he's gotten to spend so little time with. On his off days, he's down there working extra hard to keep up, but usually he just falls asleep in the midst of paperwork. "If… it weren't Avaeth's, I might have turned it down again. Let her know that."
Morlanol takes this secret revelation with him as he slips into the underbrush, ruffling only a few leaves as he disappears into the forest.
Zevida flushes as he catches her hand. "I've missed you, too.." She mumbles, "I forgive you.. Avaeth, she hasn't though. She.. She still doesn't like you. She'll forget by the time the eggs hatch.. Seeing as I've forgiven you.." A smile and then she squeezes his hand. "I know, I'll tell her. Thank you, Satoris.." A pause, "I think she wants me back at the sands.."
Satoris's hand drops back to his side. He takes a long breath, "I didn't think she would. I hope that doesn't ruin the Touchings for the others." The same hand lifts and he runs it through his hair. "If you need anything, let me know."
Zevida smiles faintly, "I won't let her stop you." She points out, waving a hand. "Come to the observation level and visit sometime.." She murmurs, "I will, Sat. Thank you." And then she's heading back into the clearing.