What is Time?

Xanadu Weyr - Clock Tower
Deep in the foliage at the side of the landing field, a small path gives way to a rather large clearing. Within the center of this patch of bareness amongst the trees and other plants of the jungle stands a square clocktower, rising up through the canopy of trees. The structure is made of a dark gray stone, and each corner is framed by a thick wooden beam. Beside the clocktower, a large lake has been dug. It's obviously an artificial lake, as it's shaped too perfectly oblong-shaped.

The tall, towering structure rises up easily past the leafy growth of the forest, three sections of bare gray stone walls stacked atop each other, each one slightly smaller than the one it's built on top of. Each one of these "sections" is joined with more of the same dark wood that frames the corners of the tower. The wood forms a framing around the top and bottom of each section. Near the top of the structure, right under one of the clock's faces, there's a ledge with railings. This ledge is big enough for a dragon to land upon.

There are no windows in the tower, merely one slit in the middle of each one of the four walls that make up each section. They look like they could be used to mount an attack from the inside. There's only one door in the place, it seems—a dark wooden door that matches the beams that frame the clocktower. It seems to be the only entrance to the tower.

A loud ticking sound permeates the air from above, not so loud that it's painful, but enough that it's heard well. It's not overly loud, but it's loud enough to be heard. The clock at the top of the structure keeps near-perfect time; it strikes the hour, every hour…one strike at one, two strikes at two, etc. But at noon and midnight, it strikes eight times, a melody from old Earth, before striking the hour.





Dusk's colors are a muted think in the wake of wintertime winds and odd, scudding clouds that push across the sky. Thick and laden with unshed moisture, they are far above… and Flandynn is far below. Skipping chores, done with chores, having to yet even touch his chores, there is absolutely nothing to do with chores here. Paths are meant to be followed, and the teen followed this one right to the tower. "Huh." The structure deserves a sound 'huh' in response. Tick. Tick. Tick. "Tock." That last word earns a grin from Flandynn, his fingers trailing over the dark stone, noting the cool and weathered surface. He gives it a rap of his knuckles before ducking within and looking, up, up, up, and then to take the stairs aloft two at a time. He's gotta try it. Gotta see if it happens. "HELLO?" Someone is seeking an echo. Will anything answer back?

Karona hurries through the forest, jacket held tight against the cold winds. She hesitates at the clock tower, glancing back behind her, before ducking inside. She comes around and presses her back against the wall, listening for something. Footsteps, outside. They approach, and then recede, and the smith exhales. The call of HELLO? has her answering, a meek little "Hello?", a pretty pathetic echo, all things considered.

Flandynn is halfway up the stairs, blinks, pauses, and neatly skips a step. He near to falls to his knees, but it is a close thing. So, instead, he'll just make a whole lot of noise. You know, to go with that shout. The teens head cocks some to the side, listening. "Really… I sound like a girl." And so, he'll reach deep down into the super masculine part of him, where men grunt, adjust themselves, are Alpha, and hair on more than just the top of their head. "HELLO?!" Sputtering steps has him racing to the top once more.

Karona moves towards the stairwell, looking about this way and that. "Er, hello?" she repeats, warily. She glances up at that noise, then eyes the stairwell. "Okay then…" she says quietly, making her way over. A foot is carefully placed on the bottom step, and then another, as she bobs up and down, perhaps testing the strength of the steps. Cautious, cautious, easy does it. She plods on, climbing up after the male voice, peering upwards. "Hello?" she calls, slightly louder.

Flandynn knows damn well he doesn't sound like a girl. So, once more, he pauses at the return sound, heard just barely over the sound of his own progress upwards. He remains as is, considering and considering some more. "Huh." Because it is a word that is fitting for this moment in time as well. After the pause, he pounces back to the top, headed for the clock's top. Each step on a stair is in time with the tick - tick - tick. Panting as he reaches the apex, the teen spills out, catching his feet underneath him. And now, he'll state the obvious, "That is a big clock."

Karona takes her time climbing, feet falling heavily on each step, as she plods on upwards, but she does eventually make it to the top. "Oh!" she says, tilting her head at Flandynn. "You're the boy with the imaginary sword." she realises. Names don't seem to be her strong suit, if she even got Flandynn's name. She looks around, blinking slightly. "Er. Ooh." she murmurs, moving over to examine some bit of metal, with the utmost fascination. Smiths!

Flandynn spins about upon the balls of his feet, confronted by Karona. "I'm cleani-" The excuse for being there doesn't quite fall completely from his lips, abbreviated as his eyes meet the redhead's. His mouth shuts, only to open suddenly again at her words -once more not a thing comes from his lips. A hand comes up, sort of finger waving at her in stuttering silence as his thoughts race for a good response. "You are not a true believer." Spoken most direly. Two breaths later and a grin takes his lips. "Oh yes, this is… famous, isn't it?" But apparently she is now more interested in the metal or gears or whatever it is that makes up a clock. "What is it?"

Karona raises an eyebrow at Flandynn. "Not a true believer? What, in your imaginary sword?" she repeats, odd expression on her face. Is she… trying not to laugh? Perhaps. Karona looks up at the fascinating metal again, then chuckles. "It's a feat of modern engineering, that's what it is." she states, moving around, eyes always turned inwards. There's probably one heck of a view from up here, but the smith finds the clock itself /far/ more fascinating. "Cogs and gears interlocking, turning, working together. And for what? So people can know the time." she says, hunkering down to peer up from beneath, to get a good look at the gears.

Flandynn bites back a chuckle at her query of him, but that grin twitching at his lips is pretty obvious. "It is an amazing sword -do you know something about all of this?" His hand lifts up, raising about to gesture towards the clockwork. His eyes follow after his hand, the gears and coils and such spanning before and about in a maze before his dark eyes. He trails after her, a shadow of interest, a sneezing shadow of interest. "Excuse me." Sniffle. "I imagine this is where the discussion falls into… what is time?"

Karona glances up at Flandynn, then stands up, dusting herself off. She takes her time about that, being very /thorough/. Ew, dust, getitoff. When she's finally satisfied, she looks Flandynn's way again. "Ah… well, not really. I couldn't make something like this. The smiths who were commissioned /do/ love to go on about it, though." she says, with a roll of her eyes. Flandynn's sneezing has her stepping away, warily. Ew, /sneeze/, that's even worse than dust! "Er, ah. Time? Time of day. Breakfast time, lunch time, that sort of thing. Most people look at the sky, I guess." she shrugs.

Flandynn takes a step back as she comes up again, his smile the faintest as he looks to her. "It'd be something interesting to learn… to fiddle with clocks. Granted, whenever I try to fix something, it does tend to come up with more pieces than when I started…" He trails off for a moment, glancing away. Abruptly, the smile returns, his gaze falling back onto her. "What is time? What is the point of it? When should we eat?" He flashes her a wink, turning away to peek out one of those slit windows to the vista beyond. "Do you know those who worked on it…?"

Karona glances up at the clock workings, and shakes her head slightly. "It's impressive…" she murmurs, shaking her head. "Something for the finer smiths, I think. Some of those cogs and gears look rather intricate." she says, shaking her head absently. "Mm, it is fun to tinker." she admits, then furrows her brow. Did she really just say that? "Er… I'm no techcrafter, of course!" she qualifies, looking embarrassed. Embarrassed that she finds something 'fun'? Perhaps. Weird woman, Karona. Flandynn's questions on time get a look now. "Oh. Of course. You're joking." she realises, or assumes. No imagination, no sense of humour, 'fun' is embarrassing… "Ah, know them? Not /personally/. I only know what I overhear in the forge. Some of those smiths like to brag." she rolls her eyes.

Flandynn doesn't quite note the finer points of her words, and also misses any brow-furrowing as his eyes look out to the darkening landscape. He pulls away, dusky skin painted in the pinks and golds of the falling sun. Not exactly his best colors. "Make anything neat? I try, and it sort of falls apart. I suppose that is also why I'd never make it in any craft." His shoulders rise and fall in a negligent shrug as a shoulder falls up against the outer wall. His smile abruptly shows, all teeth and bounded by dimples. "Aye, joking." He abruptly pulls away from the window, approaching the clock pieces, "Ah, but I think they have every right to brag. I couldn't make this, and if I could, you can fardling well believe I'd etch my name in each and every bit of metal, in huge letters."

Karona shrugs slightly, and turns back to the clock workings. "Not like this. Working on a sculpture, just been scoping out the site, before I put the finishing touches on it." She glances idly in the direction of the forest weyrs, frowning. "Looking to get a techcrafter out to take a look, maybe give me a hand. It's these pieces of metal, twining around each other,' she makes a spiral gesture with her hand. "I want to get a light put in, in the middle, shining upwards. I think that'd finish it off nicely. A beacon, of sorts." she says. "But… mostly, I just make runner shoes and saddle buckles. Boring." she dismisses it, with a wave of her hand. "Ever tried at crafting?" she wonders. "When I joined the smith craft, I didn't even know the /word/ 'alloy'."

"Don't dismisses runner shoes and saddle buckles. A good shoe is important, and a failing saddle buckle could kill a man," Flandynn notes to her, walking past Karona to look at the clock innards, eyes curious with each tick - tick - tick. "No, never tried. I'm not so much the studious sort. You have my respect though, taking up a trade. Smithing. Neat stuff. Fiddling and tinkering and making things, fixing what is broke… adding things to make it better. Noticing the details, doing more with them." His lips fall into a faintly amused grin, "I respect that. If I had a hat, it'd be off to you, Karona." Imaginary sword boy doffs an imaginary hat, bowing low with a flourish, tipping his 'hat' before looking as though he is setting it back atop his head, and at a jaunty angle, thank you.

Karona tips her head at Flandynn. "True. I used to ride regularly, when I was posted to Fort Weyr. Never had a buckle fail, but I've had to replace more shoes than I care to think about." she grimaces. "That's, I suppose, what got me to take that up, in the craft. Didn't always make things, I was far more interested in alloys, just the right percentages of this ore and that, to create a stronger or prettier metal, whatever was needed." she shrugs slightly. "The smiths who make and mend have my respect, also. Too much… too much customer service, for me. I far prefer to be working off away in the background, fewer interruptions." The imaginary hat gets a raised eyebrow from the woman. "You seem to have… quite the imagination." she states, perhaps mildly impressed.

Flandynn comes back to his full height, which really isn't all that much to be perfectly honest. The smile that follows her statement is just on this side of shy, and probably more on the side of boyish. He falls back on a shrug, and then winks, "I'd rather that then to be called dull as yesterday's breakfast." His chin drops, and he remarks, "So now you are here… are you a local? Called into candidate service? See a metal dragon in your future made of stronger, prettier alloy?"

Karona stares at Flandynn. She just stares. After a minute, she bursts out laughing. "Metal dragon? Gold? /Me/?" she cackles, and shakes her head. "No." she manages between chuckles. "No, I think something small would do just fine. Green, there are an awful lot of those. Though…" she grimaces slightly. Greens = flights. "…maybe blue." she states. "Or maybe nothing at all. I think that much more likely, personally." she finishes, with a shake of her head. "Ah… no, I'm not local, I just go where the craft sends me. I've been here a while now, about a turn or so before the eggs were laid. Took the white knot when offered, obviously. It's only my second time standing, but it'll be my last." she says, with a dismissive shrug. Is she that old? Apparently. "How about you, where do you call home?" she asks.

Flandynn's mouth opens to try to refute her words, and falls shut just as easily. Really, this is becoming some kind of a habit with him lately. He is sorely tempted to toe-scuff in the presence of her laughter, but instead he'll buck up and grin all the more. "It is just a possibility. one of many… and it fit in rather well with your talk of metal. I thought I was being clever." He'll look more proud than actually pout, although it is a close thing. "Ah, another reason I couldn't be a crafter. Sent around at the whims of old people." As for her query, that gets a lick of his lips before speaking, "Home is wherever I am standing…" Slow, near puckish smile. "… but I was bred in Keroon thereabouts."

Karona chuckles slightly, wiping at her eye. Oh, the laughter. "I suppose it is possible, but personally I don't even think there's a gold egg /down/ there." she waves in the general direction of the hatching grounds. "Though I wouldn't put marks on it, on general principle." she shrugs. "Crafting's not so bad, much rather be sent every which way than gather dust at the hall. Crafthalls are so… boring." Wow. Karona is calling something boring? It must /really/ be boring, we're talking mind-numbingly dull here. "Fascinating, wonderful sources of information, but still, a little bit dull." she shrugs. Flandynn's philosophy on homes actually earns a smile from the woman. "That's about my view on the subject." she concurs. "No idea where I was born, some hold in Telgar region. Parents travelled. Raised in Telgar Weyr, Ierne Weyrhold, Ista Weyr." she says, with a shrug. "Joined the craft soon as I was twelve, lived in the crafthall half my life." There's a slight pause, though. "I do miss Ierne, sometimes. But Xanadu's forge is rather impressive." So, it's not all bad.

Flandynn drops his voice down into something of a whisper, but it is still easily heard above the grinding ticks of the clock, "But if you wanted to put marks on something, I hear there is a dragonhealer who will give you some pretty good odds. Just sayin'." His eyes flick from side to side as if afraid someone might have listened in, more than happy to ham it up just a little bit more, if only for Karona's sake. His smile eases just a little bit more, softening, "Those are plenty of places… lots of things to see, people to meet. Ierne… I haven't been there. Tell me about it?"

Karona smirks. "Wouldn't trust a dragonhealer to bet on a hatching. Inside information!" she notes. Is she… joking? Huh. So she does have it in her. "Oh, Ierne. Me and some kids used to play around there, the marketplace is something else. We used to get in all sorts of trouble, climbing up on top of stalls, mucking about." …really? Karona? When she realises what she's just said, she flushes. "Kids will be kids." she mutters, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly. "Ierne's a good place though. Beaches for miles, and the marketplace is loads of fun." Clearly. "I wonder where they've all got to…" she wonders, brow furrowing.

Flandynn listens to her, for all the while grinning faintly and bobbing his head. "Mucking about in stalls, imagine that," he responds after her, grinning just a tad more. "And some of us will always remain kids." He takes a deep breath, the falling light darkening the room even further. The teen glances back out to the star-studded skies, and then glances back over to her. "It's dark.. and I haven't a light. And while I don't mind living life a bit on the edge, I also don't want to fall down those stairs and break my neck. Mind escorting me to the bottom? If you go first, so you can break my fall. I'd be most thankful."

Karona shudders slightly, and shakes her head. "I didn't mean… not /that/ sort of mucking. Not runner stalls. Market stalls." she explains, with a grimace. Ew, runner mucking. She looks Flandynn up and down, and snorts. He /is/ a kid, to her. But she doesn't say it. "Oh? That's hardly the gentlemanly thing to do." she says, raising an eyebrow, but she does turn and head for the stairs, anyway. "You're just lucky I have somewhere else to go before curfew." she declares, as she starts down the stairs, plodding slowly and carefully.

Flandynn follows after, more than happy to chat her up on the way down to the ground level. "Now where would that me? You have me all kinds of curious now. You can just toss out a juicy morsel like that and not expect me to bite -well, figuratively. But you know what I mean. Mind if I follow along, for each moment I'm not forced to wash out half of the weyr's dirty socks, is a moment awarded to my very sanity -that and I won't snore tonight."

Karona wrinkles her nose up at the chore Flandynn is avoiding. "I don't blame you." she says honestly. "I'm just heading down to the forge, to hopefully meet up with a techcrafter, to hook up the lighting on my sculpture. Welcome to /watch/, but conversation will be sorely lacking, I'm afraid. Work work work." she says, with a shrug. "Tomorrow afternoon I hope to present it to the rider, if I can reach him. Not quite done yet, though. Race against the clock now." she notes, glancing up the tower. Once she hits bottom, that's exactly where she heads - the forge.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 License