Xanadu Weyr - Candidate and Weyrling Barracks
Xanadu's barracks are a massive, L-shaped amalgamation of caverns and construction, squared on one end, rough-hewn and oblong on the other, with weyrlings and candidates separated from one another by a large communal area. Wood and stone floors meet in a clever spiral pattern that interlaces and spreads, creating harmony in a space meant for completion of chores, classes, and storage of both dragon supplies and bedding for humans. A singular wooden door leads into an office for the weyrlingstaff.
Windows stretch the length of the candidate barracks, a long, low-ceilinged room that opens off the training grounds. One wall is slightly curved, set against the outer wall of the hatching arena, with a locked door closing off a tunnel that leads onto the sands. Cots are set in two rows along the length of the room, each with its own small press at the foot for personal belongings. It's always warm here when there are eggs on the sands; candidates seldom need more than a light blanket, but a diminutive hearth is available for the warming of beverages or the occasional firelizard-surprise.
The weyrling half of the barracks have been burrowed back into stone. Close and dark when shutters to the outside world are drawn, the ample paths between dragon couches have been lit with dim strips of light. Smaller couches are obviously intended for the very young weyrlings, while the largest ones at the back are for those close to graduation. A second small hearth abuts a massive cavern opening that slopes gently down to the training grounds outside.
RISE AND SHINE, TINY-DOOTS. THE TIME FOR FUN, AND ADVENTURE, AND MAAAAAYBE GETTING YOUR FINGERS BITTEN BY TINY, RAVENOUS DRAGONS HAS ARRIVED. Well, it has arrived for some, anyway. There's that whole problematic reality of each hatchling having a mind of their own and therefore keeping to hours they find reasonable even if the rest of the world does not. It's this exact reality that finds Ila'den hauling in one bucket of cut up meat and staring at the EXCEEDINGLY TINY (she's only A LOT offended by that description, it's fine) Senior Weyrwoman at his side, hugging one to her chest and somehow managing to look cheerful about it. She's smiling at every face she sees and, as if that were not bad enough, there's a massive, obnoxious, BOXY QUEEN pushing her nose into the barracks from behind. « HELLO, DARLING BABIES. INASYTH AND GAROUTH DID SUCH A GOOD JOB. NOT A SINGLE ONE OF YOU IS AT ALL DISAPPOINTING. » Blue eyes whirl as the queen boops a tiny new right on their snoot and watches them stumble under the ministrations. BUT IT'S OKAY. THEY ARE SAFE. Ila'den seems to be in opposition to Risali, no smile on his face despite the fact that he's exchanging hushed words with the Weyrwoman and she gives him a suddenly VIOLENT PROMISING SIDEEYE that only serves to make his brows raise. "I said that I've got it, Dad." Cue the quirk of lips and low, husky laughter from Ila'den before he relents — probably from asking Risali if she needs help. "Alright." Doesn't matter, they make their deliveries to their respective places, and then Ila'den is asking a gruff, "Does anybody else need meat?" A beat, and Risali adds, "Or anything, really?" YOU KNOW. BEFORE THEY FLEE AGAIN.
Daejienth is awake. Za'ariah is NOT. He's sprawled out across a cot dead to the world. With….several blankets piled upon him. From the way they are halfhazardly placed on him it would make one wonder if someone or something without hands placed them on him. And…yes! Wonder no more for Daejienth is lumbering with no grace at all with another large blanket in his mouth towards where his pampered lifemate still slumbers. From somewhere with the barracks you can hear a voice. "HEY! THAT WAS MY BLANKET!" it sounds like it could be O'dorn's voice complaining about the stolen blanket.
Kyasinth is happily dozing away. In the space between her couch and her MOST FAVORITEST PERSON IN THE WHOLE WORLD's cot. With her head up on the mattress behind him and her nose crammed as close as can be to the small of V'orn's back. She'd probably be on the cot with him, if she'd fit. And if he'd let her… The sudden noise of people and loud gold dragons arriving has the blond weyrling groaning and rolling onto his back, almost landing on top of the young green's head. He probably would have, too, if she hadn't been quick enough to slide her nose from his back to his side, "Kya…" His voice is a disgruntled groan, "I told you to get off me and get back in your own spot." He grumbles, shoving at the green that insists that he's hers to try to get her to give him a LITTLE SHARDING SPACE, IF YOU PLEASE! « V'orn! V'ornV'ornV'orn! You're awake! » And she seems EXTRA pleased at that, « There's food, V'orn! Can I have some? Please? Pleasepleaseplease? » She plops her chin down on his stomach, earning a grunted 'oof', "Fine. Whatever. Just move already." He shoves at her head again, finally getting JUST AN INCH OF SPACE to finally be able to sit up. He glances over at the two older riders and waves, "Kya says she's hungry." Not that there's a single person in the barracks that didn't hear her announce that. Half the Weyr probably heard that peppermint pink tinted announcement.
DAEJI!!!! Tiny, ADORABLE THIEF in the barracks. Probably something should be done about it, but Risali manages only just to bring her hands up over her mouth to stifle her laughter, and Ila'den watches with a quiet kind of amusement as the bronze parades past with his pilfered goods. "Daejienth," comes, finally, in that low, husky rasp. "It's good to take care of your lifemate, but not at the expense of somebody else's lifemate." THERE ARE PLENTY MORE BLANKETS. Ignore the fact that Risali is making adoring eyes at the over-the-top doting in the moments before her attention steals back to Ila'den while he speaks. And then… V'orn. Risali points one finger that might be accusing if she didn't look so thrilled. "I knew it!" Her whisper pitches slightly upward at the end. "I knew you were going to impress." AND LEIRITH KNEW IT TOO. HENCE WHY SHE'S LAUGHING SO LOUD, but no matter. Tiny dragons are hungry, and Ila'den is lifting a brow before retreating for a moment. Risali takes that time to move slightly closer to the pair with a quiet, "Hello, gorgeous," for Kya. It's not long before Ila'den is returning with A) a blanket for O'dorn, B) a small stack of them to drop on the ground close enough for Daeji to reach without having to INCONVENIENCE ANY OTHER DOOTS, and C) meat, for Kya. He settles this near V'orn's bed. "Alright, V'orn?" Ila'den inquires, raspy and pitched low. BUT THERE IS A HINT OF AMUSEMENT TO THE INQUIRY ALSO, as if he is remembering INSOLENCE ON THE SANDS and enjoying that Kya's inadvertently exacting revenge.
It's only when Ila'den repremands Daeji that V'orn's attention is brought to the fact that there are other weyrlings that are having… difficulties… with their dragons. And other people's dragons, too, apparently. (Poor O'dorn…) He gives Kyasinth a pained sort of look and sighs, though there's still a hint of… maybe awe in those lagoon blue eyes that a dragon actually chose him out of everyone on the sands! Even if she is green… There's a nod, "Thanks. Really." Even if she is green! Ugh. When attention turns directly on her, Kya arches her neck prettily and strikes a pose. Even if it is awkward and somewhat rediculous looking. One foot subtly slides over so that her toes are touching V'orn's, nearly squishing the young man's poor foot in the process. A shower of pink, rich purple, and pale yellow cascade in the form of flower petals and glitter, « You're pretty, too! » And then there's meat set not far away and poor V'orn's toes really are in danger of being squished when she bounds to her feet and gives and excited little romp in place. Ila'den gets a much put upon look and a quick nod, "Yes, sir." He's going to endure, anyway. Not like he has much other option… He certainly can't trade the ANNOYINGLY HAPPY GREEN for a blue after all.
"You're welcome," comes soft from Risali, her eyes practically dancing as she takes in dragon and rider both and then manages to blush when a baby dragon pays her compliment. "Thank you," she whispers, and then her attention is turning, grey eyes seeking out Leirith before her shoulders sink and her attention turns back to Ila'den once more. A beat, and then Risali is saying, "Make sure to let us know if you need anything, okay?" to V'orn before she's on her feet. Fingers tap gently on Ila'den's upper arm, a soft, "Work calls," her only explanation before she heads towards the exit and sees herself RIGHT ON OUT. SHE WILL BE BACK FOR MORE, if that turn to look over her shoulder one last time says anything. Which leaves POOR V'ORN with Ila'den. How unlucky for him that Ila'den didn't miss the fact that V'orn called him sir. Again. One, two, three, five, and finally he's rasping, "My name is Ila'den, not 'sir'. It's always hardest the first few days when you're adjusting to having somebody else in your head all of the time," and apparently ON YOUR PERSON, "but it gets better. They will become less dependent and then you get a new set of problems to worry about." Like, you know, the sheer drive to break EVERY RULE for some, and laziness for others. "How do you feel?" About being a rider, he means.
Daejienth loves, loves, LOVES the idea of more blankets for fussing. His newly acquired blanket (Thank's O'dorn) is tossed over Za'ariah. Normally, maybe, he'd let his pampered rider sleep for sleep is good ( or so he's heard), but..but there is buckets of food and that reminds Daej that it's been some time since he ate last. How much time is anyones guess but this growing bronze is larger than cute little Kya over there and if /she/ gets to eat then so should he. So even if the general sounds and noises of an active barracks wouldn't wake up Za'ariah ( and he was starting to stir a bit), the large wedge-shaped head of Daej will certainly do the trick. Groggily he sits up with complete confusion as to why he's covered in so many blankets, most of which aren't even his. "Uggh….no wonder i was so hot." he complains as he gets to his feet. So far he doesn't notice Ila'den or the small and adorable Risali.
Kyasinth warbles happily and practically preens at the thanks, looking over at her person with a smear of rainbow fingerpaints, « Why did she turn pink like that? » V'orn groans and covers his face with both hands. Faranth… this little dragon is going to be the death of him! "She's blushing. I'll…" He lets his hands slide down, his own ears slightly red, "I'll explain it later, okay?" He nods as the Weyrwoman starts to leave, "We-" No. Not 'we', "I will." He makes a face when reminded that the one eyed man is not a 'sir', "Sorry." SIR! He rubs at the back of his head, nodding, "She's very… colorful." To say the least, "I don't think I've ever seen so many shades of pink, purple, or yellow in my life." As though to prove a point, Kya showers a cascade of green sparkles for everyone and plops her chin on her lifemate's lap to look up at him adoringly, « Food now? » He grimaces, "Or green." He gives one eyeridge an absent scritch, glancing over at Za'ariah with a faint smirk, "At least you'll never be cold again, Zach." There's a shrug for the question, "I guess I'm adjusting…" He grimaces, "Just never thought of myself as… well, as a greenrider, I guess."
The comment on Risali's blush earns a wry pull of Ila'den's lips, as if he knows more about it, but won't say. Either way, there's a low growl of, "It's fine," to acknowledge the apology meant for him until they're onto the next topic. And there, another pull at the corner of Ila'den's lips as he listens. "They have a way of doing that." Being colorful? Interrupting your plans in life and what you thought you knew about yourself? ALL OF THE ABOVE? "I didn't think I was remotely qualified to be a dragonrider." And now here he is, regardless of his dragon's color, a dragonrider and one that, through many avenues and venues of life (from S&R to Weyrleader) helping those newly bonded pairs navigate the confusion of a life he never thought he'd be living. But Ila'den's attention shifts to Za'ariah, to the reality that his dragon is hungry too before he shifts, moving. "I have some paperwork that I need to finish, but I'll send another one of the assistants out with another bucket for you." And then Ila'den is moving — //prowling — as he takes himself towards the office areas. True to his word, though, one of the other assistants swings in only moments later to deliver that aforementioned bucket of delicious, delicious meat.
Daejienth is likely to be on the break every rule side. Sometimes even unintentionally! If we're lucky. However we have some time before that because right now, no lessons, no major rules that he wants to break. YET. The bronze watches the retreating back briefly before the lure of food is once more there. Za'ariah turns his confused look at all random not-his-blankets now pooled alongside his cot towards his bronze. A scritch to the head is given and then IT'S OFF FOR FOOD. And likely an oil and nap after that!
V'orn might moan and complain about the fact that Kyasinth is green— he might keep trying to convince her that she's really just a really small blue— but he's still shocked and secretly pleased that a dragon picked him at all! He nods, absolutely not smiling (just ignore the way the corners of his mouth turn up in an affectionate sort of smirk. IT'S ALL A TRICK OF THE LIGHT) as he's nosed hard in the stomach, again, until he manages to push her off his lap to get up and finally start dropping chunks of meat into her waiting maw, "Chew. We don't want you choking." The departing Ila'den gets a distracted wave as he leaves, all attention now focused on the ravenous, and quickly growing, young green.