Xanadu Weyr - The Lonely Beach
Though perhaps nothing to write home about, the Lonely Island's beach is peaceful enough, a long stretch of white sand just big enough for two golds to sprawl out comfortably without touching. Shells, agates, driftwood, and other watery detritus litters the beach in bits and spots, just enough to make things interesting. East-facing, the beach is ideal for watching the sun rise, the view utterly unimpeded by the dense forest that otherwise swallows the island. Natural stone jetties and pockets of sand create excellent spots for fishing and swimming, while others play home to tiny ecosystems in the form of tidepools.
Well, it's not quite the armageddon Esiae pretended it was a few days ago, but there's certainly something terrible brewing on the horizon. Black clouds form a solid, indomitable wall from the west, the tops of several anvil clouds visible even over the tall trees of the Lonely Island's forest. Wind whips low across the lake, stirring up stand and leaves and other detritus on the beach, buffeting back and forth in a manner that can only spell danger. This doesn't seem to be stopping the progress of several dragons as they wing across choppy waters, but it's certainly giving them hell. The beach isn't large enough for them all, so a dark, unfamiliar green and two blues pass overhead, leaving an enormous bronze and a gold to come in to not so gentle landings just off shore. "Candidates!" It's not an angry cry, but it's maybe a panicked one as Esiae swings from Sonyxaeth's back, splashing to the shallows and sprinting for shore.
Lost somewhere in the forest itself is Zak. Evidently not actually lost though for the candidate soon emerges at some point onto the sandy beach. He's stripped to his shorts, feet and chest bared with superficial scratches along his exposed, sun burnt skin. Blinking at the light he does cast a quick look skywards to see the angry clouds he has missed while traipsing along the woods. He hurries towards the sprinting weyrwoman. "Are they hatching? They are hatching without us aren't they??!"
There have…probably been a few worried looks cast skyward. Maorin isn't blind to the signs of a building storm, and with the wind whipping up and the sky darkening..well..he'd have to be completely blind not to notice. "Not good…" But then, in the sky, there are dragons. Lo and behold, they have not been left to rot! Or get blown away in the wind. "Hey!" A brightly cheerful..if slightly relieved call is sent to anyone sitting nearby. Lookit the dragons! He gets up onto his feet though, hurriedly brushing sand off as Esiae comes sloshing ashore. "Well we were beginning to wonder if tying ourselves to trees would be a good idea!" Zak's sudden sprint-by gets a blink and a faint laugh. "Breathe, man!"
No matter where you are on Pern, dark clouds tend to mean trouble - especially if you don't have the protection of a Hold to turn to! Quillan had been lingering in the treeline, watching the oncoming storm while stripping down a tree trunk to use on the failed raft attempt that sits on the shore. He can't help but smirk when he sees the dragons, and as he steps out to meet Esiae on her call, he laughs at Maorin and Zak. "Told you they'd come get us!" Where's that raft? He wants to go kick it.
Zhianna stumbles out onto the beach from somewhere, as burned and all as many of the candidates. "Is it time already?" is murmured as she looks at the weyrwoman. "So glad to be going home dont care if they be hatching or not, just want to get clean." is added is a low tired whisper.
When last a certain rider was here, the candidates were given a mission! …also a hatchet. They've been putting the tool to use in service of the plan as best they can - so there's definitely some felled trees, some tangles of vines turned into something like rope, and… things that have definitely tried to be a raft. Janaya's working on another attempt at a rope to replace one that snapped, twining vines together when that gust of wind that isn't from the storm interrupts her. She jumps up to her feet, eyeing the dragons from a distance before she follows the rest to meet them.
"THIS IS NOT A GOOD IDEA." That's the hobo-bearded fella riding the bronze, who looks more than a little wide-eyed as his dragon drops into the waves crashing on the shore like a sledgehammer. He's probably been shouting that the whole way, but also, he's whooping laughter as he swings down from Rymrth's side. "They better hurry their shardin' tails up or we'll be flatcakes!" The rider splashes around Ry's shoulders, letting the dragon take the few steps he needs to join Sonyxaeth on the beach, eyes whirring quick. Zan'ri's on Esiae's heels, skidding to a stop in the sand and watching as they do, in fact, show up post-haste. "She said we have to come get you." He twitches a thumb Esiae-wards and doesn't explain, turning to prepare the extra straps the bronze has on 'im.
Esiae looks like she might faint with relief when candidates move to greet her, the strain obvious in her features — right up until Zak begins firing those questions. "W-what? No. Not yet anyways. We came for you!" Because of that, or so she seems to imply, gesturing towards the towering mass of storm on its way. Cue rapid blinking, followed by a weak chuckle. "Shells, here I am half outta my wits that you lot'd been blown away already…," she says, shaking her head between Quillan and Zak. And all she gets is flak! Well, clearly she thinks she deserves it, since Zhianna gets a definite wince and a mumbled "Sorry" that's about as close as they'll come to getting an apology for being dumped out here on their lonesome. She nods fervently for Zan'ri's explanation though, a more leader-like mask dropping over her features as she beckons them towards the pair of dragons half in and half out of the water. "They're strapped for multiples, and there's three more riders waiting for us to clear the beach. How many more are in the forest, do you know?," is asked of any of them, not just Zak, in case they need to perform a sweep.
Maorin rolls his eyes just a little bit, glancing at Quillan. "Well of course they would if the weather gets nasty." Alas, poor raft. There's an almost mournful look at what could've been. A poor, partially constructed series of logs that may..or may not even hold together. He doesn't seem terribly bothered by the stay on the island, despite his own amount of sun he's obviously gotten. A hand waves at Esiae though, offering the goldrider a grin. "Relax, relax. We're all whole and accounted for, don't you worry. I think everyone's pretty much out here already, but we can take a quick count and be off in no time flat." While hurried, the teenager seems quite content to just let things /roll/. But he turns to jog his way back up the beach again to check on who might be missing from the group.
Quillan looks impressed by Maorin's calmness. It's quite different to his own giddiness right now, because they are getting off the island. "E, you've never looked so good," he says, chuffed as anything, before he turns to do a quick headcount, as Maorin suggested. "There's maybe another half-dozen or so of us in the forest? But I'll betcha they're coming down here right now." He rubs at his sunburnt, peeling nose, and looks curiously at the unknown rider on the beach with them. "Who's that?" Does anyone know?
Zhianna ducks her head but inches closer to the riders. "there were some right behind me a few minutes ago." she offers as hair and grit are swipped off her face after a huge gust of wind.
"Weren't there a couple who said they were going to hide in a… cave or something?" Janaya says, glancing first back to the woods, then to the other candidates for confirmation or a lack thereof. That suspicious-looking other rider gets a look from her, followed by a shake of her head to Quillan. "…our ride home?" Isn't that enough? "Anyway, we'd better get moving, right? If there's others waiting!"
Zan'ri pauses halfway through and makes a face over at Esi, more 'I told you so' than anything else, since look! All safe and sound. "They're fine, Esi." He shouts, and it's probably less comforting than it might be since he's hollering over the noise the trees and waves are making. Rymrth is trying to be still, really, but he's got both wings out to attempt to keep the wind and debris off of Esiae and Sonyxaeth — and those candidates, of course — but he's. Really big. Somehow the wings stay mostly out, and might help a little, as Zan goes back to fixing the straps. "I've got three with me! Hurry, get your tails up on 'im." A beat, and he squints at Quillan, looking moderately offended. "I'm /Zan/." The man huffs, and points Janaya-wards with huff and quick grin. "I can't believe the stories have stopped!" That's hollered back over at Esi, put out, and he's finished, stepping back. Rymrth is oblivious, though, and…how are they even supposed to get astride the big dummy?
Oh the weather! Sure, that's what brings rescue. Casting a brief glance to the weather he gives a quick nod. "Sure sure…we're all here." he thinks. He doesn't know of anyone else in the forest. He stands quiet now and simply awaits instructions.
Esiae does relax a bit, breath wooshing from her lungs in a huff for Maorin. "Right. I know. I just…" Eyes stray skywards again, and shells, but those clouds are close now, winds starting to fling sand up into their faces. "Come back quick! I'll send the rest of S&R for the rest if I have to, 'specially if they're in the cave I think they're in," the junior says with a grateful nod to Janaya and Zhianna as Maorin moves up the beach. "The rest of you hop on. I can take another three." Esi doesn't even have to look at Zan'ri's face to know he's made one - she knows just by his tone, and she times a rude gesture back at him with one hand when (hopefully) the candidates aren't looking. "What, d'you want me to tell them about the time you stole me off into the wilderness and we got lost for three months? Or how 'bout that time you 'dropped a match' and then laughed your ass off when that decrepit old mine blew sky-high?" He did ask for it… "Because this doesn't seem the time!" Hands gesture expressively at the literal hellstorm going on around them, though she is grinning at least. "He's my friend," she says to Quill, "and has been so more turns than I care to admit to any of you. I trust him," she says, eyes still scanning around, as though trying to find one person in particular. Finally, she caves. "What about Ainemn. Tall kid. Gangly. Recent candidate. Seen him?"
There's a bit of yelling from Maorin, if only to make sure and call out any other straggling candidates that may not have come out to the beach in a timely manner. As he returns, he's propelling another candidate in front of him. "Go on, go on!" Whichever one of the many it may be, at least the teenager picked up a straggler! He squints against a gust of wind, turning his head away from it to avoid getting too much sand in his eyes. An arm lifts up as well to try and block some of it, nodding. "Get on the dragon!" Yes, that other random candidate needs a bit of prodding. Shoo! "I didn't see anyone else."
"Zan. Gotcha." Quillan salutes smartly to the bronzerider. "I blow up mines for a living. When I'm not fending for my life on an island." They have something in common - sorta! Which makes him meander over to the bronzer, puffing up his chest as he stands beside him to try and look a bit… taller. Broader. "Ainemn, E?" He's confused by the name, and squints through the wind to the other candidates. "Don't know where there's an Ainemn, ma'am, but… maybe you mean Skybroom?" A finger is pointed to a lanky candidate, who's over there behind Janaya.
Janaya rolls her eyes at Zan'ri's protest, sticking out her tongue, and then… GASP! Esiae knows rude gestures! This is shocking news that will surely traumatize any candidate who sees it. Or maybe just make them snicker a bit. Still, they've got worse concerns - like the rising wind, and the waves splashing ever-more-aggressively up onto shore. Janaya nods, then shakes her head at that name. "Nuh-uh, not today." Really, she's not entirely sure when the last time she did see him, but… wait, is that who Esiae means? She turns to squint at the tall candidate by her. He has a name?
Zak is caught up with the others in the urgency that is in the rider's actions. GoGoGo! He'll just be ushered along to whatever dragon he needs to mount up on.
Zan'ri preens. There's honestly no other word for it. He sweeps his haircut-needing hair back (it's blown directly back in his face) and laughs, flapping a hand imperiously towards the other rider. "If you must." He chortles, and sticks his tongue out maturely at the goldrider, entirely too calm for the situation; but he's in it now. Might as well get comfortable in the peril of it. "Get down, you big lug! They can't /climb/ you." The man hollers, whacking the bronze's leg until he crouches with an elbow angled for easier climbing. « Make haste, little humans! Ere the storm overtakes us! » The dragon doesn't have much of a sense of 'personal mind space' or maybe we'll be kind and say it's the trauma of it all. At any rate, his voice is more impressive than the incoming storm, louder and filled with lightning and…helpful. Totally. Zan's eyeing Quil with lips that are definitely not twitching, both eyebrows raising as he hikes a thumb at the dragon. "G'wan, get up there. If you help the others up, I'll show ya a thing or two." He directs, ducking out of the shelter of Ry's wings to ensure that the helpful candidates bringing folks in aren't floundering.
Esi wilts a little for Maorin's report, but her brow knits faintly for Quill's suggestion. "Skybroom?" Brown eyes fasten on the candidate in question and, well… She doesn't shove Janaya out of the way or anything, but the girl is clearly chopped liver compared to the skinny boy the woman rushes over to and flings her arms about. Judging by the candidate's suddenly uneasy expression, he was hoping to hide behind Jan to avoid just this kind of thing. "C'mon, Aunt Esi, 'm'fine," he mutters in an Istan accent, revealing the nature of the goldrider's distress, but he does pat-pat her awkwardly before she lets go. "'N don't think I didn' see mom's dragon. I'll wait f'r her." There's a bit of a bite to that, but Esi seems to expect it - she slugs his shoulder, but looks infinitely more herself when she turns back, hands gesturing in a great sweep at the rest of them. "Well? Are you deaf, or do you want to row that Faranth-forsaken woodpile you call a raft to shore? 'Cause I'm happy to leave ya!," she drawls, pushing Zak lightly towards her gold. All aboard! When Rymrth crouches, Sonyxaeth does as well, a paw outstretched so the candidates can climb up it. "And you!" One finger points towards Zan'ri and Quillan, and it's hard to tell which she means. "Don't give him any ideas."
Maorin is all for getting off the island at this point. Or at least away from the impending doom-storm. With candidates finally starting to be ushered upon dragons, he goes right along, making the climb and at least trying to be quick about it. He's not exactly terribly /proficient/ at dragon-mounting. But at least he gets there.
Helping out others in exchange for learning a few new tricks? Sure. Quillan hops upon onto Rymrth's foreleg, and uses his position to lend a hand to those who mightn't be as familiar with mounting dragons as he is. Esiae's warning to Zan'ri gets a cheeky salute from Q, as he gives one particularly small candidate a boost to get them up into straps. "Talk when we're back in Xanadu, Zan?" Then he shimmies up to buckle himself in, clearly unfazed by the whole situation in his eagerness to leave.
Janaya deals with being the (relatively) unimportant one here by making her escape! She heads for the dragons, splashing to them and then climbing up on… okay, Sonyxaeth, because Maorin and Quillan are kind of occupying Rymrth's straps, and she's not particularly inclined to wait around for that storm to get any worse! Up onto the gold she scrambles, climbing into place and tossing a few helpful suggestions to the others mounting while she triple-checks her straps to make sure she doesn't get blown off by the storm.
Zhianna moves along with all the others climbing aboard the nearest dragon with some help and settling in. "real foid, real beds, and baths…" one track mind ayup.
Zan'ri keeps a wary eye on the tall candidate and Esi — makes a very mature face at the kid — but quickly decides that the others are grouped up enough. Ry keeps an eye on Janaya's progress, nose a scant foot away from the girl until she gets up safely. Apparently pleased, the bronze sideswipes Sony with his face on the way back around, watching his own passengers patiently. "Esi, we need to go!" Zan's coming back around, hopping up on Rymrth's leg to check over the buckles the candidates are strapped in with, ensure they're safe. "Give the others a chance to get in!" I mean, it's obvious, but Zan's kind of good at stating the obvious. Also, that nearest cloud looks kind of sketchy. Apparently deciding the passengers he's got are good, Zan'ri grins, swinging himself into the straps and buckling them as Ry's backing out back into the shallows. "You bet! Don't tell Esiae." He says, or. Well. Shouts. And grins, winking at Sony's passengers as Rymrth crouches, ready to leave with Sonyxaeth's say-so.
Esiae squints for that cheeky salute, but she's no longer in a position to argue. Zan'ri's words cause her to glance back at that storm again, and even she pales a little under her tan. Sketchy's a word for it, since that cloud is definitely not supposed to be moving in a vaguely circular fashion. "Shitshitshit." Rude gesturing and swearing. It's Faranthmas all over the place today! « Go! » A great wash of will comes with that. Rymrth likely doesn't need it, but he gets it anyways, pushing him to take off without her. Esi grabs the wrist of that candidate Maorin dug up and flings him at Sonyxaeth, all but shoving him up onto the gold herself since Zhianna, Quill, and Rin are safely aboard the bronze. "Hold tight, don't let go of the straps for anything," she warns Janaya as she takes only enough time to jerk their straps and check their security before wrapping her fingers around Sony's straps. "I'm good enough, I'll buckle on the way up, go!" The rain starts in great, heavy sheets just as they take off, wind battering furiously first against and then with the launch. Sonyxaeth doesn't dare to look back, too focused on keeping from being tossed about like a great golden rag doll, but Esi does, watching as the pair of blues and the green land to collect the others. It's too late to do anything but hope, as the dragons race for Xanadu, coming in for a hard landing in the clearing. "Get inside. Stay against the far walls. Weyrlingstaff will be in to see you. Do not. Go. Outside," she says like she means it. There'll be time to be glad they're back later - for now they need to scatter!
Janaya notices Rymrth's head behind her as she settles on Sonyxaeth - before, she was a little too busy to notice warm breath in with the wind - and laughs. "I'm fine," she calls to the bronze. Or at least, she will be if they do actually leave before that storm overtakes them! And at some point, she may realize she heard him. Maybe. For now, she just takes it in stride with the rest of the tempest swirling around them! She nods to Esiae, gripping her straps firmly and grinning up into the sky as the storm opens its maw to consume them… or try, anyway! But, they have a different plan. There's the leap, the winds buffeting - the rain that's alternately like a club smacking againt them and sharp needles stinging at exposed skin… but they make it! They land in Xanadu! Alive! Janaya all but tumbles off the dragon's back, blown there by the winds and taking only a scarce moment to glance at the others before she runs for inside. …and not that anyone can hear over the wind, but she kind of looks like she's laughing. Maybe her wits blew out along the way!
« Have care, Sonyxaeth! » Rymrth is off with that command, and if Janaya's got a weather ear out she might catch a thunderous laugh above the rain. « At ease! » The Command Voice, though, does put a spring in his flight as he tries to provide some sort of wake for Sony to fly in. It doesn't really work too much, but he tries, wings struggling fiercely against the wind. "PORT SIDE, KIDS." Zan somehow has the impetus to holler, though he doesn't remove his hands from Ry's straps to point at the waterspout forming to their left. "Keep your hands tucked into your straps!" The flight is more haphazard than they really should have to withstand, but look! There's the Weyr, coming in awfully — really, pretty — fast. THUMP. Rymrth's bellowing as he lands, wings quickly tucking against his side before they get snapped around too much. "Keep LOW! Hunch over! Rymrth, come on!" The bronze lunges a few steps closer to the caverns, and Zan's turning, out of his own straps already and helping the others. "Listen to Esiae. Galaxy doesn't need t'be out haulin ya back in!" Granted, he doesn't actually have any influence over the candidates but — well, he tries, glancing over at Sony's passengers with narrowed eyes too. "I'll follow you in!"
Quillan's grip on Rymrth's straps is tighter than he's ever held on before, especially when he sees the waterspout, as pointed out by Zan'ri. "Shit," he hisses, leaning in as low on the bronze's back as he can, and holding on even more tightly. When they land, safe and sound and alive, he helps the others off first - even Maorin! - and then shimmies down himself. He can see Janaya laughing, even if the wind whips the sound away, and he can't help but join in with her as he runs to the barracks, slipping in at the same time as her. Inside the shelter of their much-missed home, he even drapes an arm over the younger candidate's shoulders. "Faranth's arse, but that was epic."
They live! These candidates have survived not only the lonely island but also the journey back from it. Janaya's steps slow as she enters the barracks, just in time to be caught by Quillan's arm. What's that? Her head turns to see - oh! Janaya grins to him. "Ha! Didja see those waves? I almost thought she was gonna go down!" Which is of course a reason to laugh again. As they come into the barracks, she looks up. "You think it'll hold? I mean, it was already broke once…" And what's repaired is sometimes stronger for the experience, but… not always. "The whole place could come down around us!" Scrambled eggs with rocks and a side of candidates, anyone? But, hey, at least if they get crushed in here, Galaxy will know where to dig in order to find their bodies. More convenient that way!
It isn't until the candidates are all safely in their dormitories that Sonyxaeth finally reaches out to nose Rymrth. « I did not mean to insult you, my friend. I was merely concerned. » There isn't time to waste, with waterspouts in the sky, however. Her rider no sooner dismounts and sprints for the administrative hallway than the gold is in the sky again, aiming for the dragon on watch.
"Shards yeah," Quillan enthuses about the waves. It's easy to be excited when you've lived through the worst of it! Or so he's hoping, anyway. "Eh, we'll be alright. If they didn't think we'd be safe, we wouldn't be in here." He slips his arm from around her, and dashes across to his cot to grab clean, dry clothes from the press. Bliiiiss. With them in hand he does as they were told to do, and presses himself back up against the wall of the barracks, where he starts changing. Because who wants to sit out a storm soaked and coated in island filth?
« No worries, my friend! None taken! We have done battle with the elements and won, on your command! » Rymrth's all wild excitement, following the gold up to the heights to watch for the others as Zan'ri follows the candidates inside. Sure, they're headed for the barracks and he probably shouldn't be but. Yanno. "I ain't seen one like that in *turns*!" The rider bellows, apparently catching a little of his dragon's habits towards loudness, lingering near the doors to wait for the other dragons and their candidates to arrive. "One of ya want to go get towels? Lots…of towels. Shells and shards. Esi thought we were gonna lose all ya." Beam! "Others comin' in."
There's a few blues and greens that have managed to bring back the stragglers, coming in for pretty rough landings as the winds play a little more havoc on smaller dragons. This group looks a little worse for wear, having been smacked around by tree branches and scraped up in the process. Maelle doesn't look so graceful as she gets down off the dragon who was nice enough to carry her, nearly ending up face first on the ground of the bowl. The other candidates beat her in, but she's quick to pick herself up to get out of the storm. "I didn't think we were going to make it!" She announces as she makes it inside, rubbing her hand at her face to keep the water from getting in her eyes.
Towels? Zan'ri wants towels? Quillan would go and get them if he didn't have his pants around his ankles when the request comes, and by the time he's got his clean clothes on there's already a candidate coming back with them. Woody, as it would happen! Who isn't really called Woody, but the kid is a Woodcrafter. "Cheers, Woody." Quill takes one after they've been offered to the bronzerider, and once he's stripped off his shirt he begins towelling down his chest, then his hair. "Mae! You're alive! Have you met Zan?" From the tone of his voice, Quill's possibly somewhat in awe of the man.
Zan'ri is in the middle of dragging off his trousers when the candidates get in, which is…maybe not the best impression, but his heavy 'hide jacket goes with them. A little drier in his shirt and shorts, Zan counts heads with a frown, then nods. "That all've ya? Nobody not accounted for?" He asks around, eyeing the incoming candidates hopefully. "Aw, but ya did!" That's for Maelle, offered with a sympathetic smile all the same as Zan stalks Ainemn over to his cot and steals a pair of trousers from the kid; and smiling brightly for…Woody. Whose name has him eyeing Quillan, but there's nothing for it. "Thanks, kid. Heyla, Mae! Zan'ri." Which, actually, she might already know. "Aw, ya did good, all of you. Shells."
Is that blood? Why, yes, there's a little trickle of it going down her now pretty tanned right arm and Maelle frowns when she sees it. A couple of the others are just as scraped, though she ushers them over where all the others are, "We'll see if there's something we can use to clean those up." You know, healer candidate to the rescue! She blinks when she sees Zan'ri and Quillan in fairly equal states of distress and can't help but snicker a little. Really, she's not laughing at them. Not at all. "It's all of us, none left behind! I.. uh.. Maybe?" She isn't /entirely/ sure, not with him with no trousers on. She's also not great with names, so that's really helpful. "It got worse out there after you guys left, I swear one of the greens almost got pulled into the storm!" But, didn't!
A particularly strong gust of wind batters the side of the barracks, making some of the candidates shriek. Quillan hunches up, flicking the towel up over his head… like that's going to protect him if the whole thing collapses. When he's sure they're not about to die, he hollers over the sound of the storm outside: "Glad you're safe though, Mae! You got anything for sunburn?" Because he's red raw in places, and peeling like there's no tomorrow across his shoulders, forehead and nose. With the towel still draped over his head to soak water from his sopping curls, he starts picking at the burnt skin on his shoulders, peeling it away and flicking it off. "Hey, so Zan, are you from here? Cos I don't think I've seen you before."
Zan'ri is the worst mother-avian; he clucks over the injured candidates, huffing under his breath and shifting from foot to foot. Now that the adrenaline is dying down a little, the guy looks more awkward. "Need any help with the scrapes?" He asks, but stays back, nodding a relieved kind of nod for the fact that everybody's back safe. "This's built to stand." The rider has reassurances for the squealing candidates, for all that he does glance warily up at the ceiling. "Seen worse'ns than this. Don't worry. They need you all safe and cozy." A bigger smile comes back out, a little roguish even, before Quill's question brings a sheepish slant to it. "Not for…a while. But I was. Came here when me'n Esiae were younger. How'd ya fare out on your own, then? Other than burned up." The rider huffs a laugh, still shifting from foot to foot and eyeing the candidates.
Maelle is safe! And now rummaging through her things to see if she brought anything useful from the hall with her since this isn't exactly the infirmary. She finds a small bag which she drags along with her and a set of dry clothes, that she brings over where Zan'ri and Quillan are. She gives a quick smile to Zan'ri and shakes her head. "They're nothing bad, I'm sure it'll be fine. Any extra towels?" She wonders, but her question doesn't go unanswered for long - she's tossed a towel from someone else. Somewhat /used/ but it's not so bad. Digging around her bag she tosses a small jar of what looks like some kind of cream, though it doesn't smell particularly good when it's opened. "That'll help. Stop picking at it though." She tells Quill, though who knows if he'll actually listen and she isn't going to nag beyond that.
Janaya snags one of those towels and attempts to vaguely pat herself down… bah, it's a lost cause. She tosses it on her bed to leave a wet spot there while she swaps out shirt for a loose sundress and then drops various other bits of clothing from beneath it into a tangled pile. The back of the dress is nearly soaked through by the time she's done, just from her hair, but whatever. At least it's clean wet clothing, and she tries to scrub her hair down into merely semi-damp as she heads back to lean against the wall. "Is anyone hurt bad?" she asks Maelle, since, well… healer! And thus most likely to know, in Janaya's book.
"But picking is so satisfying," Quillan replies to Mae, as he manages to peel off a pretty huge piece of sun-crisped skin. He looks at it proudly, wiggles it at one of the girl candidates to make her squeal, then drops it on the floor. "What?" he retorts when he's given an 'eeew' and a look. "You want me to eat it?" Rolling his eyes, he starts slathering the cream on his burnt bits. "Thanks, Mae. And I guess welcome back to you, Zan? It's bloody shardin' good to be back here right now. The island sucked. Nothing but fish and fruit to eat for days, and they wanted to tow us back on a bloody raft. A raft!" Clearly not his favourite thing ever.
Zan'ri nods, ceding a healer's word — for once. He may or may not snicker when a towel gets tossed for the candidate, backing a few steps up to give them room to move. "Not pickin' at it's the worst part." The rider grumps, although it doesn't look like he's burned in turns. Janaya's included at the benevolent grin Zan's sharing around the candidates, which looks at least one-part uneasy. Lots of 'em. Looots. "Nah. Looks like ya all made it back without anything comin' off." That's…colorful, certainly. Quillan's woeful tale gets a decidedly sympathetic look, banishing the unease behind a crinkled-up face. "Don't I know it. Any of ya find the wrong leaves to use in the latrine?" The mournful look suggests maybe not asking Zan for more details. "Well, looks like y'lucked out, then. Maybe they'll have ya build one later." Beam!
"Bumps, scrapes, maybe a twisted ankle. But, overall not bad for as nasty as it is out there." Maelle answers Janaya as she strips out of her own clothes only to towel dry then tug on a clean shirt and pull up a pair of trousers quickly afterwards. She then pulls one of the injured candidates over to look at that twisted ankle to make sure it's not more than that, and offer to patch up some bleeding scrapes for others after she does her own on her arm. Quillan gets a glower as he drops that patch of dead skin on the /floor/, "You don't have to toss it /there/! Nasty, Quill." She glowers at him, and since it seems all the injuries were very minor they don't take much to address at all. She's good at her job, at least! "They can't make us if the eggs hatch soon. They're supposed to hatch soon, right? I'll totally be hightailing it back to Healers, classes are /way/ better."
Janaya's nose wrinkles at the mention of that raft, a contrast to her previous enthusiasm about the prospect. "Sharding thing kept falling apart," she mutters. "Like Faranth stomping her egg to bits." A shake of her head, a scowl, and then she perks up again as she listens to Maelle describe just how victorious they were against the storm! "Well, good." Janaya takes a glance up and down along the barracks to see the other candidates, then looks back to Zan'ri. She laughs a little at his mention of leaves, then quickly puts on a somber look as she shakes her head. She certainly escaped that horrible fate! And wouldn't laugh at him for it, nope. Or at least, she'd pretend not to. Janaya looks to Maelle next, with a thoughtful frown and what starts to be a nod for the eggs hatching soon… and then she blinks. Hightailing it… "What?" she asks, looking surprised and sad. "Are you leaving?"
Quillan rolls his eyes at the mention of leaves. "Thank Faranth no, but Skybroom might've." That special kid Esiae was so fond of. He keeps on slathering his shoulders in salve, if only to wet down the peelable skin so he can't pick at it. "Tell you what though, I'll be happy if I never see another fish again. Alive or rotting dead." Janaya gets a look - she knows what he means. "Also, Mae? I'm not gonna eat it, so where the shell else am I meant to put it?" Before he applies the cream to his nose, he picks at the skin there and drops that on the floor, too. Probably just to irk the healer. "I'll be going back to blowing stuff up after the eggs hatch. Explosives seem safe in comparison to this candidacy lark."
"Ain't that th' shardin' truth." Zan huffs, leaning around to peer out the shutters — there's an almighty crack, and lightning flashes outside. "Yep." The rider agrees, carefl not to roll his eyes at Maelle's dislike of the dead skin on the floor. Not touchin' it, nope. Well — "Aw, that's not the worst thing this floor's got." Smile! Beat. "Oh, I dunno. Might could." Zan's poker face is terrible, though; they probably aren't going to have to go build a raft still. Janaya's dismay over the raft gets a sympathetic kind of nod. "Took me'n Esi a shardin' /sevenday/ to get a trap built for fish. Kept going to bits." He agrees, inching towards the doors to glance out again. Just to make sure, you know. You never really know what's going on out there in the gale. Ainemn gets raised eyebrows from Zan for Quil's words; but the kid is distracted, and the rider lets it drop for now. "Lots more fun to blow stuff up, too, eh?"
"You can sweep up the barracks after the storm's over then." Maelle says with a glower as she watches Quillan continue to pick off dead skin and toss it on the floor. Not that she has the power to /enforce/ that, but surely other candidates aren't interested in sweeping out his mess, right? She shakes her head quickly at Janaya, "Not leaving /yet/, but after the hatching it's likely. At least, until I get posted somewhere. Maybe I could come back as a Weyrhealer someday if I don't Impress." It's good to have goals, in case things don't pan out - right? She's got plans, but then, she always had! "I'm no good at catching fish, or well.. just about anything out there on the island. How often do dragonriders get lost, that this has become some kind of training exercise for candidates?" She really does wonder why this is a thing, beyond just 'hey, it's for teamwork'. Surely Zan has the answer for that, right?
Oh, fish. Janaya's response to that is just an, "Ugh." Really, what more needs to be said? She makes no comment at all on the dead skin, but as Maelle explains her plans, Janaya goes, "Ohh." She nods, and glances to Quillan as well before nodding again. "If you don't. Yeah. I'm going to the tech hall, after. If I don't." She turns her head, looking at the wall as if she's hoping to see through it to those eggs… which doesn't work in the slightest, oh well. Maybe she'll have better luck looking at Zan'ri and seeing what he says to Maelle's questions!
"Looks like it's up to the eggs if we all get scattered to the winds after they hatch." Quillan sits quietly for a moment, pondering their potential futures, perhaps. "Yeah, fish suck to eat and suck to be caught. They should just be left in the water, I reckon. And we should eat meat." Manly meat, all the time! He starts rubbing cream on his nose and forehead, layering it on thick. As for Maelle's question? "I've never heard of anyone from Igen getting lost, other than… well, the type of lost where you don't come back." His voice drops a notch or two for the latter part of that answer, and he frowns. "The between type of lost. You don't need to know which leaves to wipe your arse with there."
Zan'ri looks a little bit caught-out by the question of how often dragonriders are lost. He winces, palming the back of his neck and looking vaguely awkward for a long moment. "Well, no. Not often, I gotta tell ya. Still, if — if your dragon gets cracked upside the head, you're not goin' anywhere. Lost a friend that-ways, once, me and Esi. Not with an injury to you or it, either, head or otherwise. Can't risk *between*." He explains, then huffs, smiling vaguely. "Not all of ya're gonna Impress, either. Useful, knowing the what-for out in the wilds. Plus, y'need to know how to work together. It's gonna be lots more important if you're up each others behinds for another shardin' turn and a half." There. That seems plausible, right? Eyebrows lift for Mae and Janaya, and he smiles. It doesn't quite fall for the mention of the possibility of the group of compatriots falling apart, but he doesn't reply to that, just: "Ry'll get ya some meat." And a smirk. Yeah, he knows the feeling. And as for the last, the rider actually /snorts/, nodding. "Ya got a point there."
"Pretty unlikely." Maelle agrees, though she isn't feeling quite up to quizzing Zan'ri for more reasons - sure, those were some, but it really doesn't feel that helpful with how exhausted and sore the candidates are at the moment. "I guess. Well, only time will tell, no need to count dragons before they hatch." Speaking of counting, she idly wonders if there's been betting going on about colors and such, but another gust of wind wracks the barracks and she just slumps to the floor. "Shards, I feel like I could sleep for a week in that hard cot and feel like it's luxury at this point." She looks at the cot forlornly, since they were told to stay up against the wall - you know, the sturdy one that probably won't fall. "I'd go for.. well, just about any kind of food. It's almost cruel how we're back but we really can't do much more than we did on the beach."
Janaya nods to Quillan. "Yeah…" she says, with a bit of a thoughtful frown of her own. It's briefly displaced by a grin for the talk of meat, but then there's the somber topic of being lost between and the frown returns for it as Janaya leans back against the wall. She does listen to Zan'ri's reasons for why they might have been left there, with a bit of a hmm. "At least we didn't have to do human pyramids or anything." Small upsides! Janaya half-smiles, then looks on to Maelle and hehs. "Could drag blankets over here." She pats the wall. "And the storm can't last all that long, right? We can go get some food soon as it lets up. Like… everything in the kitchens. At once. …except the fish."
"What if we just sent the firelizards over with notes? 'Dear kitchens, we need real food, please.' We've got enough firelizards between us to make it work, haven't we?" Quill looks hopefully at the others, even at Zan'ri. "Zak's gold'll be good at helping, I'm sure. And the cooks can just send us some sandwiches in bags, or whatever." His belly is rumbling at all the talk of meat. "And, we could drag the blankets over too, make it a little… picnic?" Girls like those, don't they? "Hey, Zan, you can join us, if you want. Can you even fly home in this weather?"
Zan'ri makes a vague noise that might be agreement under his breath, eyes on the ceiling and narrowed for a good several moments. When he comes back to, it's with an automatic hand to his head; Rymrth's mindvoice is thunderous at best. "Ya might as well drag 'em all against the walls. This isn't gonna let up too much for a while." The rider suggests, like that's something a visiting rider ought to be doing, but it's possible that he's still got sources. Maybe. At any rate, how can you not suggest sleep to a bunch of poor, exhausted candidates? "There ya go, bright side." The rider winks Janaya-wards, but the good mood wobbles a bit. "Never know. Hm." He's thoughtful for a moment, then grinning, and pointing ominously in the same moment between the group of candidates. "You, stay. I don't wanna shardin' hear I lead a line of candidates out to get blown away in a storm. Don't you worry the 'lizards. I'll send someone along soon enough. Got to keep yer strengths up, don'tcha?" The rider grins, and outside there's a loud thump; that'd be Rymrth, apparently, since Zan's dashing out the door in the next moment, flinging himself astride and somehow managing not to get blown away. Yet. It's hard to tell, as they slide and slip off into the storm. For food? Without the jacket, obviously. Because who needs plans.