Monaco Bay Weyr - South Clearing
The southern clearing of Monaco Bay Weyr is nearly comparable in size to the main clearing, though it contains a distinctly different landscape. Opening into the feeding grounds and the infirmary it serves as a major area for wing drills and relaxation in the evenings during the cooler seasons. Dirt pathways meander from structure to structure, linking the areas of the weyr well, though sparse grass lines the trails and provides space for entertainment and relaxation. Tall trees to all sides of the clearing offer shade and serve to delineate the boundaries of the weyr from the wilderness. To the opposite side from the infirmary, huts and weyrs have been set up in island fashion. A paved path rings around the back of the bulky hatching cavern that looms overhead, leading towards the crafter clearing and its constant, noisy industry.
Spring has finally sprung in the southern hemisphere, and though it's safe to say Monaco's weather has been consistently balmier than Xanadu's, a bit of warmth and sunshine is still likely a welcome change. For some, more than others. "Now this is real spring weather," one of Xanadu's junior weyrwomen calls over to her companion as they dismount, shaking blonde hair out of her helmet. K'asin, a brown-haired, brown-eyed bronzerider from the weyrling class after hers, only snorts amusedly as Esiae turns her face to the sun. "Yeah, yeah. Don't get distracted. We're here to procure tech, remember?" Esiae mumbles something that might be 'I'll procure your mother,' but ultimately the goldrider stalks off to find the techcrafter they're supposed to meet while, chuckling, K'asin sets about the arduous task of unloading goods for delivering from his dragon's straps. It's all going well until a clip breaks under strain and a bag goes dropping towards the ground. "Head's up!," the bronzer shouts. Might not be anyone nearby, but the bag looks heavy, so better safe than sorry, really.
Lists! Why are there always lists? Maorin looks particularly troubled by the few sheets of paper he has as he makes his way across the bowl, making a face and turning it sideways. As if that might…assist in his situation any. "I don't even know what half of these things are. Honestly…'fetch the linens' I can do..no problem. But what's ava…a..I can't even pronounce this stuff." Woe be it to those given fetch quests. The call for a heads up has the young man rather abruptly ducking aside, papers held above his head as a flimsy helmet..until the realization comes that he's probably not in range to have anything dropped on him. Still. One never knows when something might fall from the sky. He straightens again, clearing his throat before taking a few steps in said direction of peril. "Those might not..by any chance be medical supplies, would they? Not at all fragile and potentially breakable medical supplies?"
K'asin is quick to scurry back down his dragon's side, sadly in too much of a hurry to witness what was likely a very humorous duck, to someone outside the situation. Thankfully, Maorin was well out of the way of the falling bag, but it definitely clinks in a very bad way when it lands; something done broke. "Uhhhm," the bronzerider drawls guiltily as the young man takes a few steps closer. "Well." Brown eyes shift from Maorin to the now-leaking bag and back. "No." Phew! "But it's definitely one of the loose bottles of wine I was supposed to be dropping off at the Lunar Shoals Pier. I told T'kan we should've made room in a crate instead of trying to save time." And indeed, now that he's said it, the distinct smell of fermented fruit permeates the warm air. "Why, you looking for the medical supplies? I know which bag they're in," is murmured absently as the rapidly reddening bag is opened and broken bits of green glass are carefully retrieved.
"Oh. Well, that's fine then." /Not/ broken stuff he's supposed to be collecting? Nothing for him to worry about, although Maorin does pass a sympathetic look down at the slowly spreading stain. "I mean..not /fine/ of course. That's broken. Very broken. Supplies? Oh! Yes." Distractions run rampant in the bowl it seems, and the teen straightens up from starting to take a closer look at the dropped bag. "I help out in the infirmary, and helping out means I get to lug everything around. Ah..welcome to Monaco Bay, by the way."
K'asin doesn't even seem to notice the mis-speak until Maorin makes it A Thing. Then, brown eyes slide up, glancing him over with amusement. "Yeah, wouldn't much classify it as fine, I guess. The only thing I've ever seen more broken was my heart after my girl dumped me, bu— ouch!" Speaking of distractions! Wincing and pressing his finger to his mouth, Kar holds back what is likely a litany of swears for Maorin's sake, grumbling quietly before he eventually pulls the digit away from his face. "It's just not my day." Still, it doesn't do much more than redden again with unshed blood, so it apparently isn't that bad. Still, there's a bit of ah… irony to it. "Ah, yeah," the bronzer drawls with a nod as he goes back to carefully plucking shards from the bag - carefully, this time. "That's how I wound up with this job. Gave someone a hand one day and they never let me go again." Brown eyes twinkle up at the teen. "Thanks. I'd shake your hand, but-" Blood. "-I'll just offer greetings instead. I'm K'asin, this here's Salrith." Cue a rumbled greeting from the twilight-dark bronze, whose head lowers to peer at Maorin. "He wants to know if you'll patch me up." The injured finger is waved. "You don't have to, though." 'Tis only a flesh wound.
Maorin gives a wince of his own at the sudden finger injuring, shaking his head. "Well you've sure got bad luck. Or /I'm/ bad luck… That's been said before, at least. I'm sure you'll be fine again in no time." Once K'asin has left curse-radius, anyway. There's a smile given, however, certainly not at all concerned about spreading that bit of luck around even further. "It's Maorin. Blood doesn't bother me much. Not the worst thing I've touched helping out in there. Sometimes..yeesh." With a large head looming closer, the teen leans back slightly, grin growing. "Well I'm no healer and I don't have much to..work with. Unless you want a bandage made of paper. Truth be told…it probably won't help all that much."
K'asin chuckles, but it's a kind noise, head shaking for the notion that Maorin's the source of the bad luck. "Nah, it's not you. It's been this whole day. Wasn't even supposed to be on this detail, but Esiae-" a glance over at the junior's gold, who is sprawled out to enjoy the sun "-insisted that we go today, and I was the only person with an off day. It's all been downhill from there." A face is made for those hypothetical things the teen has seen. "Well met. And eugh. I don't even want to think about it." The man visibly shudders. "Blood doesn't squick me, but everything else… Dunno how you do it." Yeah, no. There's a perplexed blink for the mention of paper bandages before the bronzer's brains catch up. "Oh, no, but there's those supplies for you to take, yeah? I'm positive bandages were on the inventory list. Even if you just wrap a little bit of gauze around it, it'd keep him from worrying when we have to go between again." Salrith doesn't look like the kind of dragon who worries, but he does peer closely at Maorin for a second more before withdrawing his head and dropping into a laying position so K'asin can easily unclip the bag he knows contains medical supplies. "You helping them out because you think you're gonna become a Healer, or…?"
Maorin does seem to consider the bag of goodies a moment, nodding. "Well I guess you can't be expected to tie a bandage on your own fingers. That seems..awkward, and like it'd involve using teeth." He finally folds up his list though, stuffing it down into a pocket to free up his own hands. "Just wrapping it up, I can do. Can't imagine I could get it too wrong." Until K'asin ends up with bandage /mittens/. There's a flash of a grin though, before giving a nod. "Looks like it. I spent a lot of time in there after I exploded, so I've grown to like it, I guess. The weird smell doesn't bother me anymore, at least." There's nothing at all weird about that statement.
K'asin nods for Maorin's logic, handing over the bag, which likely contains most of the things on the teen's list, and then some. "I'd appreciate it. If you need help, I'm sure I can give you pointers," the bronzer lightly teases, "But I believe in you." He splays the fingers of his injured hand out so the index finger in question can be bandaged - hopefully sans mittening! He blinks, though, brown eyes squinting over at the young man when he says he exploded. No. Probably not literally. Prosthetics aren't that good. "Exploded?" There's a 'hmm' for the idea of growing used to the smells. It's not quite a noise of agreement. "Ever think of doing anything else?"
Maorin begins his rummaging. Salves and other such things? …He has no idea, so he doesn't bother with them. Gauze however, he can handle, and he fishes out a roll of the stuff easily. "Oh yes, very big mess. /Was/ a shiphand. But the last one I was on sort of…uh. Well it blew up." That luck thing? Possibly a valid concern. There's a slight grin though, and he tilts his head. There is quite a bit of scarring to be had to the teen's face. "Floated around a while before I got picked up and brought in. Before that? Figured I'd be on a boat my whole life. So things do change and all. I've sure had my fill of the water, anyway." And at least the boy is capable enough of wrapping some gauze around a finger and tying it off. No mittens!
Oh. Nope. Literal explosions. K'asin's eyebrows go up, expression torn between being impressed and a little alarmed. "Actually blew up? Shells." The man has some tact. He doesn't ask how, at least, or eyeball those scars again too hard, but he does tilt his head to one side as he considers the teen. "How long were you at sea? Glad someone found you. Had to've been scary, that." Shudder. "But yeah, I guess that's one way to change professions." Kar looks good and distracted as he shakes his head, perhaps picturing the incident with Michael-Bay-levels of drama, but Salrith nudges him back on track. "Oh. Right. Well, uhm. If you're interested, could be that there's another option out there for you. You know. If you weren't too married to the whole Healer thing." Now who's making it weird?
At least Maorin doesn't seem bothered by it. That smile is still there, after all, and his shoulders lift in a shrug. "Well I was in and out of it, so I don't actually remember too much of the actual../thing/." When everything goes boom, it really is better to just..stay unconscious for a lot of what comes after. He sets the bag down on the ground then, working and putting things back in order within it before looking up again, brows lifted. "Another option?"
"Probably for the best," K'asin drawls, thoughts apparently mirroring Maorin's. As the teen moves to repack the bag of supplies, the bronzerider flexes his hand, appraising the bandage before extending it back to Salrith to sniff. Apparently, the star-specked dragon approves, for he whuffles quietly in Maorin's general direction as Kar's chin dips in a nod. "Yeah. Dunno if you knew, but Xanadu's senior just laid a clutch a couple days ago. If you were interested, Salrith thinks being a candidate would be a much less… dangerous adventure." From the depths of his riding jacket, a white knot is procured, extended with his good hand for Maorin to takes if he so wishes. "You've already got the survival skills and first-aid talent to get you started. He thinks you'd do well, and I gotta admit, I agree." If that helps.
"Eh?" Well /that/ sort of job offer is probably not what Maorin was expecting. He looks up again with a start though, rather reflexively taking the small thing offered to him. But he does get back to his feet though, certainly not offering that knot /back/ to K'asin at all. "I'd..heard something about that, yeah. A much less..dangerous adventure where survival skills and first aid are important?" The teen's lips quirk into a slight smirk at that, fingers raking absently through his hair. "It's…a far cry better than staying cooped up in the infirmary, I'll give you that." A breath comes, and then Maorin simply nods firmly. "I guess I can't argue with that, can I?" Hopefully he doesn't get dropped off quite like that bottle of wine.
And 'eh?' was not what Kar was expecting! K'asin's relief is obvious when Maorin eventually takes the knot, hand withdrawn as though he wouldn't take it back, either. "Oh good," the man breathes, a grin flicking up his features. "Always makes me nervous, asking that. One of these days, somebody's gonna laugh me off, I just know it." Just in case anyone ever wondered if searchriders got nervous. He does laugh a little when Maorin spies the folly in his logic, but the bronzer offers only a shrug. "I mean, if you aren't actively practicing a craft they encourage you to participate in all the usual candidate-type chores. You've already got a one-up, the way I see it." That and who knows what's ever gonna happen during a search cycle. K'asin patiently waits out the more serious reply, lips quirking up in his own little smile before he finally nods. "Yeah. Not that there's anything wrong with infirmaries but… All of Xanadu. Infirm. Ehhh." His hands weigh like very imbalanced scales before he beams over at the teen. "Nope. No point in arguing at all. 'Specially since we're one of the more relaxed weyrs. Can't get drunk out of your mind, but you can drink, you don't have to live in the barracks if you don't want to," he says in a very suspicious rush, as though perhaps he ought to seek out any housing besides the barracks for some reason, "and sex is allowed if you're old enough. Just no babies." Though, speaking of that bottle of wine… "I think that's all that's interesting, anyways. I should probably get this cleaned up and the rest of this stuff unloaded, but I'm sure the weyrlingmasters will be pleased to bore you with the rest upon arrival." Brown eyes twinkle. "It'll be a few hours 'til we're out of here, but if you want a couple days to pack and say farewells, I'm happy to come back for you." For now he'll be over here, trying not to hate himself for breaking the wine.