The Motherload!

Xanadu Weyr - Store Room
The storerooms here are carved into the stone, stretching back deep underground beneath the upper hallways that serve for residences and work areas. There is, after all, little need for natural light here; a series of electric lights are more than sufficient to illuminate smoothly cut walls and the assortment of supplies kept until they are needed once more.
For some of the things here, that time will be long in coming. Broken furniture and torn clothing awaits the opportunity for someone to repair it - or else the kindling and rag piles. Other items are more immediately useful; gently worn clothing and boots are neatly arranged in rows and on racks, especially in the quickly outgrown children's sizes, and an assortment of furniture and small appliances in functional condition await new homes.
A series of side rooms connected to the kitchen are the larder which feeds the Weyr through the winter. Sacks of grain lean against barrels of salted meat and wheels of hard cheeses stacked high. Refrigeration and dragonflight make for a more flexible winter diet, but it still takes a great deal of food to provide for this many people. The food is a tempting target for tunnelsnakes, and the occasional scuttle can be heard in the otherwise quiet depths of these caves.
Toward the southern edge, near the path leading down to the hot springs, there's the laundry rooms, a set of steam-filled chambers where water and soap are scrubbed into fabric of various sorts and the dirt and grime is scrubbed right back out.
Much of the stores are easily accessed, requiring only the appropriate permissions to be borrowed from. These supplies are, after all, here for the good of the Weyr and the people living here. A few rooms - those containing particularly valuable or dangerous items - are kept locked.

Store room requisitions! Just what every young, hip person wants to be stuck in a windowless room doing while a gorgeous summer afternoon floats by outside. Luckily for the candidate who pulled the short straw on this task, Esiae's going to at least attempt make it interesting. She has the keys to that ~mysterious~ back room, after all, and what better time to make use of it. You know. After they tick off a couple of boring things, first. The goldrider lurks just within the entrance to the storerooms, looking about as put together as any of the candidates have ever seen her, most likely, in a dressy blue tanktop, pressed black pants, and sensible heels. See. She can look presentable sometimes. Her arms are occupied by identical clipboards, one for her, and one for whomever she seems to be waiting for.

It /is/ such a glorious and comfortable summer afternoon. One in which Zak was looking forward to doing…well pretty much anything else but storeroom duties but yet here he is! On the heels of a care package sent from his mother he's adorned in Xanadu colors from head to toe. His tunic is blue and sleeveless with orange thread along the seems. Tucked neatly into his dusty brown shorts which are also edged in a darker orange. New squeaky boots meant for hard work are on his feet. Stepping into the room he looks around for Esiae to report to. "Weyrwoman?" Aha, she must be the on with two clipbords in her hand. Surpressing a low groan he mentally prepares for an afternoon of boredom. "Candidate Z here to help." he'll state, most likely needlessly since it could be quite obvious why he's here.

Esiae turns to face the door when she hears footsteps approaching through the kitchens beyond, but whatever she was expecting, it wasn't Zak's Xanadu-colored clothing. Slim blonde eyebrows lift, but she grins, apparently finding it appropriate. "Well, lookit you, all polished and fancy," the goldrider drawls, clearly just teasing. "Not that I thought you walked around in tree-planting clothes all the time, but still." One of the clipboards is handed his way, hand waving to beckon him deeper into the storeroom once he's taken it from her. "Anyways, I'm glad you're here. Got a few dull things we have to assess before we can move on to the fun stuff, so the faster we work, the faster we'll get to that. Ever been down here before?"

"I /did/ take the liberty of assuming I wouldn't be planting trees in here." points out Zak dryly with a hint of amusement dancing across his expression. As for the clothes he can only give a helpless hand gesture to the outfit with a faint explanation of " My mum sent 'em." good old moms! Taking the clipboard his expression may not be of great excitement but he's game on learning todays stuff of learning. "Fun stuff hmm?" his sharp ears do catch that. "Never down here." his gaze is indeed roaming around a bit around himself. "Isn't this all just woma…kitchen worker worker." he catches himself mid sentence and rephrases it.

"A safe assumption," Esi says just as dryly, lips quirked up in one corner. Still, she seems interested when he says his mother sent the articles of clothing, brown eyes flicking over them again before she asks, "Did she sew them herself?" It's an honest question, and she pauses long enough for an answer before continuing on. "Yes. If we get stuff done out here, the back room is due for stocking and organization," she says, though what part of that is fun exactly, she keeps to herself unless he asks, instead nodding when he indicates he hasn't been down here before. "Hardly." Sharp eyes do flick his way, staring the candidate down as those words are amended. "You do have your kitchen stores - they're kept closer to the front for easy access. Flour. Grains. Pickled, jarred, and salted items are stored a little further back, while bushels of fresh fruits and vegetables are usually kept towards the front and rotated according to approximate rot date. Not that they ever get that far, but…" She shrugs, as though to say that's just how it's done. "There's also furniture, both in need of repair and ready for use, clothing, more towels than you'd think we'd ever need, and functional items - sweetsand, soaps, that sort of stuff. Anything you've ever taken, eaten, or used at the weyr that didn't come from your own stuff was likely taken from here." And therefore, more important than 'just' anyone's work, she implies as she finally comes to a halt in front of a large number of rows, jars, and boxes of medical supplies. "Any questions so far?"

"I don't think she did..?" his answer to her first question is half answer and half question himself as he's not too totally sure if his mom actually makes these kinds of things or just buys them. He's always been clothed and fed and sheltered without really thinking about the process that it goes through to actually get to him. Having the decency to flush a bit as he notices her noticing him amended words he simply breezes over that. La lala, he didn't mean to say this was all work for just the women! Nodding as she continues he does listen to the explanation on what is here, where it is. "First in and first out." he mumbles in a mental note to himself. Got it! He does seem a bit surprised when she starts listing off stuff other than simply food stores for the kitchens. "Oh! So then it would be the job of people who can do that to fix the broken stuff in here?" he asks once she pauses for such questions. On the heels of that he asks. "Can anyone get stuff from in here? Like if I needed a towel." cause they evidently do have a lot in here according to her inventory she just rattled off. "Or a chair for my weyr. Or room."

"Just curious. My mom's a seamstress, so when I see clothing so specifically tailored-" aka, done up in Xanadu colors! "-I have to ask." Apparently satisfied that he looks abashed enough, the goldrider seems to let the rest of that go. "Yep! Broken furniture and cloth gets mended if it can be reused, and repurposed if not. Broken machinery is scrapped and reused anywhere it can be. And of course you can," Esiae adds with a low chuckle. "If we have it, it's available for use. That's part of this job," she says, waggling the clipboard. "Keeping track of what's being requested by weyrfolk, alloting it to those more in need of it than others if there's inadequate supply, and obtaining that supply from holds, halls, and other weyrs if necessary. For example," she turns so he can follow along after her pen on the clipboard. "The infirmary has submitted a request for ten jars of numbweed, a box of bandage rolls, a case of sterile water, half a case of glass syringes, and plasticraft tubing for use with IV drips. We - or rather, you - get to locate the items from amidst the rest, make sure we have enough, and pull them aside. Then, deduct the number of items you pull aside from the number on your chart and re-write the new number in the box below. Simple enough?"

In explanation everything always seems so simple. However Zak simply nods and agrees that this sound so simple. "Sure, simple enough!" this must explain the need for a clipboard. Ensuring he still has it along with a pen he looks about himself at all the boxes then down to the clipboard and the paper on there. He seems ready.

"Good. You start on those things, and when you're done, let me know. I'll check things over, and then we can move on to page two." Wait, page two? Indeed, there are quite a few inventory sheets on both of their clipboards, ranging from page two (baby supplies) to page five (knives, bows, and hunting gear), but at least the items seem to be improving in interest as they go along? "How're your kittens doing, by the by?" Small talk? Definitely. The only way to survive the job. "Bran - the tabby I asked you about - is growing like a bad weed. A really bad weed. How big can domestic felines get?" It's asked with more than a hint of trepidation.

Zak clearly didn't notice the page two for when it is mentioned he immediately starts flipping through pages. "Oooh, multiple pages." he murmurs. This could make it difficult. After several minutes of interested reading ( guys always like weapons), he finally pulls his attention away to the task at hand. As far as small talk he replies as he looks for supplies. "Oh they are great! Completely weaned now and ready for new homes. You don't know of anyone looking for a kitten are you?" he casts a hopeful look her way. "Though I may keep on, I don't think I should keep all three. What if I impress and she doesn't /like/ the feline." he looks slightly worried about that. "Um, well the momma I know is um, about two hands high?" he's not really sure how to describe the size of a feline. "They don't grow too big. Especially compared to other animals they stay relatively small." he assures her.

Esiae chuckles for his noting of the multiple pages, but she moves a couple shelves down to take and pull her own stock, only pausing to flick him a smile when he says the kittens are well. "Good! I'm glad to hear it. I… have a friend who likes felines, yeah. Can ask him if he's looking," she replies in an amused tone. "That'd probably be best regardless. V'dim was… not pleased, when we insisted you be allowed to keep 'em because they were so young. His eyeballs about popped out of his skull," the goldrider adds, face twisting into something crazy and expressive, like a person who's eaten a lemon. "Argued that you should send 'em off to the Beastcrafters, nevermind that you were a Beastcrafter, blah blah blah." Her left hand raises, fingers opening and shutting like a mouth. "Anyways, she? Think you've maybe got a little lady out there on the sands?" Yep, she heard that use of pronoun! As for cat sizes: "… But he's two hands tall already." This does not bode well for her, or the kitten with the Pernese equivalent of maine coon in his blood.

Zak says, "I've heard that of other Weyrlingmasters too…their eyeballs popping out for stuff. Must be a requirement or something." Zak muses. "I didn't mean to cause any trouble. They've been really good so far." minus a few chewed up clothing articles but we won't mention that. "Well then maybe he's done growing." he pauses in thought which also means he's paused in his task at hand. After a moment he refocuses, pulling items and marking them down properly. "Oh well….she or maybe he I suppose. I just.." he grins lopsided. "One of the eggs I touched the other day seemed distinctly female I think.""

Esiae openly laughs for that, head ducking in a nod of agreement. "I think so. I should look at the prerequisits listed for the job. I bet that and a front-to-back asinine-level understanding of Pernese duty and law are on there. That is, if I could even find the job description. V'dim's held that job for… shells. As long as I can remember." And that's apparently a pretty long time, as the goldrider chuckles to herself about it for a second. "Nah, seriously, don't worry about it. You've been real responsible with them, and it's a silly rule anyways." One of several Ways Things Are Done that changed this cycle. The goldrider nods at the idea that maybe Bran's done growing, but her expression is dubious at best. There's more interesting things to talk about, anyways: the eggs! Tallying off the last number on her first sheet, the goldrider moves on to page two, but not before asking, "Oh yeah? Which was that?"

Quiet for a few minutes as he finishes up his own first page before moving on. Must. keep. working. That done he casts a sheepish grin at the eggs subject. "I've never touched eggs before. Not like that anyways. It was nothing I expected really. I liked two of 'em quite a bit. There's one that looks quite ashy looking." the borrowed time, borrowed world egg. "It…well I liked it." it's hard for him to explain exactly what he felt. "And the same for the one that's real cool looking with silver and white."

Esiae takes advantage of his quiet to fetch a crate from the far side of the cavernous room, returning and dropping it somewhere between their piles. "For clothes," she indicates before flashing him a grin. "I'd never touched eggs before my first candidacy, either. Turns out, the first one I touched ended up having my Sony inside. It's… different, ain't it?" She perks when he indicates specific eggs, eyes going distant as though picturing them. "What made ya like them so much, as opposed to the others?"

"Well…I mean some of the others were kind of all in my face I guess or kinda…I dunno. A bit worrisome. Those two though just really seemed to be talking to /me/, ya know." he casts the crate a curious look but accepts her explanation at face value. "It is different though. Overwhelming a bit. I didn't even touch all of the eggs yet." he pauses. "Do you think I should?"

Esi chuckles for the idea of worrisome eggs, apparently quite amused by the idea. "Yeah, I get that, feelin' like only a couple really speak to ya. Touched plenty of the eggs when I was a candidate, too - all of 'em at the time, in fact - but it was that first one that wouldn't let me go. There was this sort of rhythm that coursed through its mind. I just couldn't figure out it out, capture it on paper. Not until much later," she says, perhaps oversharing a bit in the hope of expressing her understanding. "I don't see why not. Who knows - maybe you'll find something in one of 'em that overwhelms your opinion of the rest?" A shrug. "Then again, maybe not. I suppose that'll be for you to decide," she says, flipping to page three and moving to haul a heavy-looking chair over to their piles. "My brother's a Dragonhealer, and he advocates touching 'em all so the young dragons inside can be sure to find theirs, but I know people who haven't done so and have turned out just fine." Reassuring, right?

Zak holds onto the clipboard loosely, his task at hand nearly finished but brought to a good halt as he listens to her trying to explain. His nod is absent as his thoughts turn inwards a moment in reflection of the feelings he had while touching those two particular eggs. "I guess if I do impress then I'll understand everything. In time." he nods and seems to like that idea. Seeing her flipping to the third page has him guiltily returning to his task. "I'd hate to see a dragon /not/ find his or her mate on the sands. But we've plenty searched now right? To give good choices."

"Impressing does sorta bring things all together, if it happens," Esiae agrees with a nod. "And I wouldn't worry too much, yeah. We still have straggling candidates coming in - 'late bloomers' Sony likes to call them - so there's really not much of a chance. My brother's just a paranoid git." Twinkle! Perhaps she catches that glimmer of guilt, because with a shifting glance, she takes pity on him and tosses her clipboard aside. "Alright, that's enough of that. I'm bored. Bring page five and let's go play with the sharp and pointy things!" Out of her pocket comes a set of keys, which she twirls around her finger as she heads towards the back room. "And if anyone asks, we totally did things in order." Wink! Shoving the door open with one hip, Esi reveals the motherload! Or at least, a lot of dangerous stuff that makes it reall obvious as to why it's locked up where not just anyone can find it. Swords, knives, bows and arrows abound, but there's also an HNO3 tank, a neat row of flamethrowers situated side by side, and a crate of what appears to be fireworks. Faranth only knows why. "Alriiiight. What do we need?," the goldrider asks, eyes darting around greedily like a kid's in a candy shop.

Excellent! All for the skipping through the 'boring' stuff and getting to something better Zak eyes the twirling keys excitedly. "Yes!" with page five being brought quickly to the front of the clipboard now he steps in and stops to gawk openly at the motherload-of-really-cool-stuff (tm). "Well.." he drawls out the word to give him more time to think. "Clearly we should play..I mean use that tank there." he gestures to the HNO3 tank. Stepping in further he peers briefly towards the fireworks but it's a sword that has his attention fully as it gets lifted up and admired at a close angle.

"I meant, what's on the list," Esi chides, but the 'tsk' in her tone is belied by her eager grin. "The tank itself's pretty boring, actually. The flamethrowers, though…" Her fingers trail over the one that might just be hers before moving further into the room, smirking at the sword he lifts. "Guard equipment. Pretty sure we need one of those, actually." Fingers flick at his clipboard. "We finally replaced Grieg after he retired, and I just pulled a uniform for the new kid." As for her, she's eyeballing a few of the axes, lifting several and testing their heft carefully before setting one of the better ones aside.

"Oh right. List." Zak knew that. The tank is already forgotten though it gets another brief glance as she mentioned flamethrowers. "Guard equipment. Check." he carefully lays down the sword to skim through the list in his hand. "Also arrows." he reads, squinting. "And two wait, that says bows. That's good. I'd hate to see if boys and girls were stowed in here." looking around he finally spots the arrows and heads for that supply to grab some.

Esiae chuckles, but it's a distant and distracted kind of noise, the goldrider hefting a crossbow up into her arms and holding it speculatively. "The senior when I was a weyrling used to walk around with one of these from time to time, scaring the wits out of us," she says with fond remembrance. "What do you think, should I bring the look back?" She aims the thing towards the door and mimes firing off a shot, but the thing's safety is on and it's unloaded to boot, so maybe it just looks silly. Snorting hard for the idea of boys and girls being stored in the room, Esi shakes her head and puts the thing back before scooping up a quiver for his arrows. "Yeah, no, that would be asking for chaos," she agrees. "Someone'd try a flamethrower and it'd hit the fireworks and— Bggggggggggghhhhhh." Her hands mime an explosion. "No more Xanadu." While he's busy with those arrows, she tests the strings on a pair of bows, lips twitching off to one side as neither of them quite meet her standard. "These need restrung, but we'll take 'em and drop 'em off, anyways. That's about it, yeah?"

"That's an…unique look. I'm not sure if you can pull it off." Zak reports candidly. "Clearly something new needs to be done up." not that he's got any suggestions. Just something new. "Hmm, well…I don't know if there's enough explosive power to make us go completely poof." enough arrows are retrieved and the sword re-picked up. "Just need a sheath I suppose." he looks around for one. "After all I might scare someone walking out with just a sword in hand." or perhaps they'll think it par for course around a weyr in which used to have a WW walk around with a crossbow. One never knows!

"Yeah, I don't think I can, either," Esiae admits with a laugh. "I'm scary enough all by myself, besides." She'll just go au naturale! As for the explosions, "No, perhaps not, but it'd still be a pretty little crater, or at least some very toasty children, neither of which are great." She does have some sense, at least. Stooping, she pulls a couple of loose leather scabbards from a low shelf, holding them up and eyeballing them against the sword in Zak's hands before settling on one of black leather. "Go with that one." Might as well put up the illusion of sanity, right? Right. "I'm gonna go fetch us a cart for all our stuff, and maybe some snacks, yeah? If you don't mind, get all of this out to our other pile and close the door tight behind you. When I get back, we'll take a short break, finish our other pages and if we're real quick about it you'll have a couple extra hours to yourself before dinner. Deal?" She doesn't really wait for an answer though, already turning on her heels to head towards the kitchens, clearly trusting him not to poke an eye out (or worse) while she's gone.

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