Time Capsule

Xanadu Weyr - Main Docks
Jutting out from the land are the platforms that make up the main dock of Xanadu Weyr. The extruded plastic makes an odd sound when footsteps echo across it. From this dock, two others protrude taking opposite directions, each for a special purpose.

Late fall and the weather is cool, but the afternoon brings enough sun enough heat to warm the skin. Some are taking advantage of the weather before it turns too much colder to enjoy the day. The docks are mostly empty, a number of boats are likely out fishing given - well they're not here - which leaves an opening for some to toss a pole in the water. For now however there’s only one.

In a metaphorical sense, Darsce knows how to bait a hook and troll for ‘fish’. She… hasn’t done so since she netted Jethaniel, unless it’s him she wants to snag for some purpose or another. She’s also had enough self-preservation not to have done any of that sort of fishing in front of her father (not that she’s done the other kind – the real fishing – either). That’s allllllll about to change. She appears up yonder on the cliff, lifts a hand to shade her iceblue eyes and smiles in satisfaction. Quarry spotted! It isn’t too much longer before she steps up onto the dock with her shoes dangling from the fingers of the hand she’s holding her clipboard with and pads towards her father. When she’s near enough to be heard, she drawls, “So. There you are!”

Not really expecting anyone other than the usual passers by on the docks D'had is rather surprised to hear the familiar voice of the headwoman. Not the startled sort of surprised, just surprised. "Where else would I be?" he questions back. Okay, so there's plenty of other places he could be, but here shouldn't be too far down the list.

Where indeed? Darsce would tick them off on her manicured fingers, but her hands are otherwise occupied at the moment, so her list is minus the gesture. Sweetly, “Asleep on your couch, crazy-flying in the sky, getting chased out of the kitchen by Cook, napping in the meadow, in the ready room grumbling over sweep reports that you couldn’t pawn off on other Galaxy riders?” She steps nearer, rises on tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek, “But I found you, Daddy Darling! Hi!” Oh, she’s triumphant as she thumps back to flat-footedness! A somewhat wary glance is flicked at the pole and line. “Are… they biting today?” Not ‘Have you caught anything’. Priorities first. She’ll be on her toes, ready to duck or scream if they flop her way.

D'had chuckles at the list she ticks off. All of which are possibilities, though some more likely on any given day than others. "Some," his reply to the question of whether the fish are biting. Of course if they weren't he might not still be here to be found. "Not as good as last week," he elaborates. "Take it things are goin' good?" Or she'd not be so chipper. That or she wants something from him, because that's how girls are. Right?

Darsce icks under her breath. “Oh yay,” she drawls, totally insincere and not trying to hide it while her eyes avoid finding where those fish lie. Though last week there were more. “That’s cold comfort when being stared at by sightless eyes and mouths gaping for their last breath,” she says with a toss of her silvery-blonde head. Nevertheless, she’s braving that to be here and chipper she is in spite of the possibly of more fish to come. “Currently things are… manageable.” Which means there are no weyrwomen screaming her name and that her assistants are handling her workload without her breathing down their necks. “Dariel’s in lessons, Jethaniel is in the basement immersed in a project and I-” She stops, not to make him guess, but to bring her other hand to the fore and show him that box he’d given her, balanced on her palm. “can’t put this off any longer.”

The fish are in a nearby bucket, easy enough to avoid eye contact with, and there's not likely to be more any time soon with her to distract him from it. "That's good," D'had replies with a bob of his head. His gaze narrows a bit however when that box is produced. "Put what off?" Exactly.

“Opening it,” Darsce promptly replies. Apparently she took him at his word and waited to find out what was inside until she was ready. Only she hasn’t been. Surely he’s wondering why? “Because… anything could be inside!” she blurts. “Like… a… a rusty key to a jail cell that you escaped from and they’re still after you for murder.” She side-glances at him – don’t all parent breathe, ‘I. Am. Going. To. Kill. Her. When. I. Get. My. Hands. On. Her.’? “Or what if what I find inside is a note that reads, ‘We found you on our doorstep so we adopted you’?” She pauses contemplatively then adds in an aside, “Though if I was, I’m awfully glad it was you.” Edging past that fish bucket to the opposite side on which it’s located, she plops down beside him. Her clipboard and shoes are dropped to one side freeing her to grip that box with both hands. “Or something like ‘You were born a boy and we had you fixed by a healer’?” She’s babbling the utter ridiculous now. “I could be Pern’s prettiest boy and not even know it!” It’s a dramatic almost-wail. “I can’t do this alone,” she explains in a calmer tone.

That she hasn't yet opened it is a bit of a shock but D'had tries not to let that show as he regards the young woman. He can only shake his head as she begins her string of ideas of what's inside. "I ain't ever killed noone." Sure he wanted to a couple times, but he didn't. "And now you're just being ridiculous," he adds a minute later as her ideas stream on. As for doing it alone… "Could have asked your sister." Or brother for that matter.

“Good because if you had had former practice, I might’ve been tempted to aim you at a few people needing killing,” gulps Darsce with a fleeting half-smile playing upon her painted lips. She’s being totally ridiculous – and though she hasn’t forgotten what he’d told her when he’d given it to her, the mystery of it has played upon her imagination. Iceblue eyes lift to him when he mentions sister. “Uh.” There was a reason she hasn’t. Oh! “Haven’t had time to get to Ierne and find Rehsa. I meant to.” It hasn’t crossed her mind to open it with either of her half-brothers and since he doesn’t mention it aloud, neither does she.

"Almost, but no," D'had replies, reeling in the line that's in the water. "Ah," he replies simply to the response she gives on why she didn't go through it with one of her siblings. "Well then I guess I'm not going to get you to go running off to find one of them now…" He's not pushing the issue today at least though it should be clear enough from this and their previous conversation on the matter that he'd rather not be present for it.

There are others Darsce could go find but she doesn’t explain why she hasn’t. Instead, since there was that stipulation about not opening it when he’s around, she has plan number two, “How’s the fishing where the Vega Run is?” She has no idea where the ship is. And while she’s at it, “Do you mind if I come along?” Because (thanks to her) he’s obviously having no luck here.

D'had doesn't seem to mind that he's not fishing anymore, tucking the hook into place on the rod for storage now that the line is in. "Bout the same as here," he replies, nodding towards the ship that's coming into port - which may well have been what he was waiting for. Talk about perfect timing. "Course not," to her question of coming along though they're not far today. "Always welcome to tag along."

For all Darsce knows, the fishing is the same everywhere on the planet, but she’s not above using the lingo to meet her ends. In this case- Buh-whut? She belatedly catches his nod towards the harbor and her gaze lifts. A ship is entering the harbor, yup. There is one due, no surprise there. She squints at it, nonplussed. She knows that ship, but somehow wasn’t expecting it. She reaches a finger to where her clipboard rests, spins it to face the right direction and swears in unladylike fashion. Written on the ‘arrivals’ is Vega Run. Granted, it’s not her writing, but she ought to have at least read it before now. “What are they offloading?” Because that is also written on the paper, but she’s too busy pushing up, cramming her bare feet in her shoes and waving with the clipboard clamped under one arm and that box in the other. Aaaaand they’re about to be overrun with deckhands any moment, aren’t they?

"Not sure exactly," D'had replies as to the cargo. That apparently isn't something he was keeping track of today. "Coming from Monaco Bay I think, stopping in here before heading north for the winter." After all it's summer there then. Overrun, perhaps not so much but as the ship pulls into the docks there's a few familiar faces waving back. A few other perhaps less familiar faces that hop off to tie up to the dock.

Once secure there's plenty going on onboard with readying cargo to be offboarded, but there is still family to be greeted. D'had gives Darsce a hand boarding if she needs it before heading on himself. A hug for mom, a sturdy clap for his brother, and a kiss for Darsce's forehead before he excuses himself to his own duties. There will be time to catch up later, but he did wait to see them into port.

Darsce will find out in a few moments regarding the cargo. Not that she'd normally care, but it's her job to see that the boxes, cartons, crates and nets go to the correct parties and are not all stuffed willy-nilly in the storage caverns. She hms to herself when she hears the Vega Run has stopped at Monaco Bay before Xanadu. That'll mean perhaps some delicate technology aboard and perhaps the appearance of an absent-minded Jethaniel focused on seeing the treasure to wherever it goes. From the direction of the caverns, the sound of voices and feet thudding upon the dock heralds the arrival of hands sent by her assistants to help sort and carry things where the headwoman will direct. For now though, they'll wait while she and D'had go aboard to greet their family. There's time enough for quick hellos before things start coming up out of the cargo hold but then she's back to the docks amidst piled of things, checking off items on her clipboard, giving orders as to where to cart and store them. Before long there's a steady stream of traffic - people heading for various places - the caverns, the craft complex in the clearing the workshops in the meadow or the observatory atop the meadow ridge. It's a controlled chaos for awhile there. Finally though, she can return aboard for more proper conversation and catchup.

The controlled chaos that is the unloading of the ship with the bustle of deckhands and assistants from the caverns moving and sorting is good cover. D'had takes the time to say his hellos, helping his brother to move a few crates and do a quick catch up as Darsce goes about her duties of directing and checking the list. When all is said and done however much of the hired help is off the ship and on to meeting up with family in the area, a good drink, or whatever else it is they do with shore time. D'had has slipped off to his own weyr duties. Naois and Caliegh are likely off making certain that any cargo they're to pick up is in order to be loaded at a later time before they're due to set sail leaving Lairgnen to ensure the ship is taken care of. And while many have abandoned the vessel for the time being there's still a few around including one or two children.

Darsce won't be able to linger for long either, because while the various craftmasters around the Weyr will see to their stuff, it'll be the headwoman who must make sure the dried beef doesn't end up crammed in with the socks and the kegs of salt don't somehow get stuck amongst crates of boots. Dried fish likewise, could be a particularly nasty surprise found turns later if shoved way back in the recesses of the storage caverns. So it'll be cheek-kisses and breathless promises to have Naois and Caliegh over for a meal later - or at least meet them at the tavern for a dinner - before they scurry off. As the deck becomes less crowded, Darsce spots her uncle and gives him a flutter of fingers but waits until he's at least not as busy to approach, passing the children with a vague and wary sorta-smile. She'll come straight to the point with, "Uncle Lairgnen, I already know papa was a ladies man way back, liked his whiskey off and on, but is there some alternate family he's got with a gaggle of half brothers and sisters I know nothing about floating around out there somewhere?"

Once the cargo is offboarded Lairgnen isn't overly busy so Darsce won't have to wait for long if at all to approach. "Darsce," the man returns the initial statement of his name with a nod. It's the question that completely unexpected however. "No," the answer is a certain one. "Only way you'd not know about a half brother or sister is if he didn't know about them either." The only hesitation comes after the answer is given. "What brings that up?"

Not know-? For a moment Darsce doesn't follow, then she grimaces. "Damn dragons," she mutters under her breath. Then, to answer, she brings forth that box she's kept clamped under her arm the whole time she'd been directing traffic. "This," she says holding it so he can see the box, chips, worn carvings and faded paint. She watches him closely. Perhaps he recognizes it? "Papa gave it to me about half a turn ago and said Grandpa Naois and grandma Calliegh got it for their wedding then they gave it to him before his." She pauses to draw a breath, "Wedding he said. His." Iceblue eyes are steady upon her uncle's, full of questions. But she doesn't ask the obvious one. Not yet. Instead, "He said not to open it with him there and to wait until I'm ready." Then in a quieter tone lacking the casual coolness she oft adopts, she admits candidly, "I haven't been." Her eyes drop to the box the expression one of longing, curiosity and dread. "Because who gives a gift and then doesn't want to see it opened? That's just so weird." And yet, "I'm going to open it now, so please tell me there's nothing gross in it like an ancestral finger bone bitten off by some conquered sea creature from the deep?" The corners of her lips curl in the tiniest quirk of a smile. She's kidding. Sort of.

Lairgnen ahs, nodding as reason behind the question is made clear with the presentation of the box. "Haven't see that since they gave it to him," he notes though he doesn't comment further until her next question and certainly not surprised by the mention of the wedding. There's a laugh for the speculation on the contents and he shakes his head. "Nah, nothing like that I wouldn't think." No fingers or weird grossness. "But alot of things that mean something." As for the why of not wanting to see it opened - "My guess, he wants you to have it, but not ready to see what's in there himself."

Thus reassured, Darsce pulls out a chain from inside her shirt from which dangles a tiny key. The box is solemly unlocked, her eyes flick to Lairgnen's at the mention of D'had not being yet ready to see again what lies inside. Hm. "Dragon riders don't marry. So it had to be before Siebith. That must've been a long time ago." Y'know, because her dad is ancient. Not really, but in the eyes of the young, it seems so. Her fingers make a deft twist, a soft click heard; the key is then tucked back safely inside from whence it came. Another breath is drawn and the lid lifted…

Inside the box time moves backwards in a fashion, filled with papers and trinkets covering decades. Built up in layers, the top most is primarily of Marella and Muireadhach. Brightly colored crayon drawings. A copy of the baby pictures of the twins similar to the one that is found within the locket Marel now possesses that was once Thea's. A palm-sized portrait of the former Xanadu weyrwoman. Now and then something from the teenage days of Resha and Darse. In the corner a small enveloped folded out of paper each with one of their names - Resha, Darse, Marella and Muireadhach - inside each a tiny lock of baby hair. First haircuts anyone? Below that the next layer is filled with much of the same drawings from Evee, Resha and Darse, a string of beads and other such little trinkets three girls may well have thought discarded ages ago. Even a reminder of their mother, Asher. A portrait of a young woman in her late teens, blonde with green eyes that may well remind some of a certain weyrwoman whose image was seen earlier, the varnish worn thin. A love letter folded and unfolded so many times it's a wonder the pieces are still held together - address to 'my beloved Donnchadh' and signed with the name Tailea. More children's drawings, multiple doodles on a page these mostly bugs, fish, and boats some of which are signed by the artists Lairgnen and Donnchadh. A pair of paper envelopes much like found above. These are labeled the names of the last two artists, the names written with a feminine hand rather that the rough scrawl on the first four, and the clippings inside tied with a little blue ribbon. A pair of wedding rings, tarnished by turns of resting unused in a box perhaps not the popular style now, but easily so some forty turns ago. A tumbled stone of brilliant blue.

Silence from Darsce. There is no sound to be heard save for the whisper of wind through the rigging punctuated by the rhythmic slap of waves against the hull and the plaintive cry of a solitary seabird while those tumbled contents meet her inspection. "Oh, how sweet," breathes Darsce who means it. That's for the pictures, trinkets and envelopes of baby hair. But, "Mur'dah and Marel might want these," she says of their momentos. Her fingers carefully move each item to one side, her exploration unhurried, that letter is skimmed thoughtfully and then the rings found. "So." She speaks at last, "He was married." Iceblue eyes lift, "He never said a word. What…happened?"

"Yeah, for a short time," Lairgnen agrees about it being before his brother's impression to the blue. "About forty turns now, give or take." Because it was long enough ago that he hasn't kept track of the time. A smile as she pokes through the contents though whether its for her or the items within is hard to say for certain. The smile diminishes at the question asked, but he does answer. "Doubt he would, she died."

Those rings are lifted free, hooked together on the tip of her fingernail. With her eyes on them, Darsce ponders the words for several beats. "I'm glad," she says slowly, "that he didn't end his marriage to go have a chance at a dragon." Perhaps not what he'd expected her to say, but she isn't finished thinking aloud. Hardness etches her face, her glossed lips tighten, "Not that I can imagine him doing that, but." But he left them…later. Her face melds to something softer as she continues to process. And also, because she would, if anything ever happened to Jethaniel, "He took it very hard, didn't he?" Her eyes flick to him, "What happened? An accident? Illness?"

Lairgnen chuckles at her comment, shaking his head. "Nah, he'd never even ridden on a dragon before he was searched." His brother certainly wouldn't have left that girl for a dragon. "He did," he returns to the first of her questions while the second brings a pause. "Seren!" he calls to get the child's attention and the dark-haired girl of about eleven bounds over. "Darsce here wants to hear the story of 'The Captain and the Pirate's Daughter'," he explains.

"Oh! That one's my favorite!" the girl bubbles, clearly pleased with being asked to share the tale. Though perhaps that was his reason for asking her all along. "I bet you'll like it too," she decides before launching right in. "Once upon a time there was beautiful girl named Tailea. She had blonde hair and green eyes." Of course like any good story there's interjections to clarify. "Kinda like Thea's, she was the Weyrwoman here you know. I met her once when I was little." A brief pause to confirm that Darsce does indeed know that bit of history. "Anyway, everyone loved Tailea. Her daddy was captain of the Gilded Lily, he was a pirate."

"The pirate agreed and the two ships sailed side by side and that's how the brave captain fell in love with the pirate's daughter. All he had to do while they were sailing was look starboard to see her. She'd smile and laugh and blow kisses at him when her daddy wasn't looking. When they got to port they'd take walks together and one day he asked her to marry him. And of course she said "You're the brave sea captain. Defender of frocks, slayer of tunnel snakes and keeper of my heart. Of course I'll marry you!" So they did," the story goes on complete with hand flourishes.

"The captain and his first mate had found an island off the coast of Monaco and the captain wanted to show it to Tailea. He knew that she'd love it. So they took a little boat and sailed all day to get there. But then a storm came out of nowhere and capsized the boat!"

"They both got washed overboard and he tried and tried so hard to find her. And he did and when the storm ended he carried her out of the ocean and onto the beach and he kissed her and they had lots of babies and loved each other and lived happily ever after. The End."

Story seemingly finished Lairgnen sends the girl a look and she continues. "In uncle's story he couldn't find her. The sea swallowed her up and he never saw her again. He says all his stories have sad endings. So he lets me make up new ones that are happy.” Finished Lairgnen sends her a nod, “Thanks kiddo, why don’t you go find your ma?” at which she skuttles off after a quickly chirped “Okay.”

Despite D'had's fidelity, Darsce knows there are some folks who would sever ties in a heartbeat for a chance to ride a dragon, not that she for the life of her gets that. She simply nods, faintly pleased that he father wasn't so shallow and awaits the answer to her questions. When a child is called over, she cringes. Gre-a-a-a-a-at! Despite she has one of her own - and a niece and nephew as well, awkward is the word for her dealings with anything younger than fifteen. The too-sweet smile she gives the tot doesn't quuuuite reach her eyes but she makes a patient 'please do tell' hand motion at the girl while flashing her uncle a look that clearly says 'thanks for nothing'. He is also awarded quite a few confused eye-squints during the narration. And no, Darsce didn't know the girl met the weyrwoman Thea, but fakes it with a nod. Red lips part to interject that 'Aha - there ARE a bunch of half-siblings somewhere!' when the story abruptly gets changed to it's true dismal ending. Her wind-up is akin to a balloon deflating and might otherwise be comical if not for the tiny glare she shoots Lairgnen as the child scampers off and the tone of voice she takes next. She tosses her silverblonde hair out of her face where the breeze has carried it and asks him coolly, "I didn't know my papa was a sea captain? Because you never know - he might have had his own ship. The one that was capsized perhaps? Oh and how did he get Tailea's ring back if he never found her?" Sarcasm is therapeutic - at least for her. Poor Lairignen though! He may know her from her teenage days using bitchy to cover certain emotions, but still. She rolls her eyes and mutters, "Where are the shipfish when you need 'em? Sheesh!"

"She tells it better than I ever would," Lairgnan not quite apologizes for having the girl share the story for Darsce. "He wasn't," he replies as to being a captain, "not really. That's a bit of embellishment for Seren, but he does know how to handle a ship. The one that went down was a smaller skiff they could handle on their own. Likely they weren't wearing them working on the boat." He'll not comment on the availability of shipfish however. "Pern was theirs for the taking and they were going to take it by storm, but when it took her from him… her father never forgave your da and I don't think he ever forgave himself neither."

Oh she does, does she? That's the skeptical look Darsce awards her uncle regarding Seren's particular rendition of the tale. As for the ship and her father not being a captain after all, she eyerolls. Of his ability though it's, "Yeah, I know. I've seen him; he's good." On her visits to the Vega Run while growing up, anyway. Not to mention likely been out with him on a small skiff herself as a child. She hms quietly about the rest of what Lairgnen says. "So… it was his fault? Seriously?" Like she doesn't quite buy it herself. "Ships with captain and crews more seasoned than he probably was back then go missing all the time. The sea can be…" She fumbles for the appropriate word. "…hungry." However, while her mind teases through the clues and pictures that come to mind, understanding dawns, and the revelation leeches into her next comment, which is harshly worded but spoken softly, "But that's just dumb to run around with women and drink to forget or punish himself because it made everything worse and wasted turns and turns." She curls her fingers into her hand, tucking those rings into her palm. "Besides, I'll bet Tailea… and Thea too… would want to be remembered by him."

Lairgnen shakes his head, "No, wasn't anyone's fault. As you said," he nods in Darsce's direction indicating her comment of the sea being hungry. People blame themselves all the time for things they had little to no control over. "Much of a 'ladies man'" to use her terminology, "as your da can be he doesn't fall easy, but when he does its fast and hard. Told me once its like a riptide. By the time ya realize it's there it's already sucked ya under. Thing about falling that hard, when it ends the world tends to crash and burn around you." He pauses for a moment then, considering his next words. "You've seen your father's dragon fly?" he asks the rather obviously answered question. "How he'll go up and up til he can't go any higher and then he spirals down so out of control you'd swear they're both about to crash? That's your da. There's no middle ground. He'll give everything but he doesn't forgive easily, least of all himself. I know he didn't always do right by you kids, but he tried."

Forgive Darsce, for this is solemn sort of conversation, but she suddenly gets a fit of choked sniggering that winds up in snort-giggles. "Sorta know how that falling hard goes," she points out in gasps between spasms. And because she owes her uncle Lairgnen an explanation for her sudden irrelevance - doesn't hurt that he's not her father, either - she elaborates, "Fell into Jethaniel's bed - totally by mistake, mind - but damn, was it fast and hard-" Wait. That's…TMI, isn't it? She coughs. Of crashing and burning though? She looks confused. Aside from that tragic drowning mishap with Tailea, didn’t it work out at least okay for D’had and Thea? "Worked out pret-ty damn well for me." Nevermind that poor Jethaniel may well be living in his own hell - or is that heaven? - in the firestorm that can be Darsce (we won't talk about burned dinners - or other sorts of hot here). The wife of Jethaniel pulls herself together and re-directs her focus to the conversation at hand, staring at her uncle with some disbelief. "Seen…Siebith fly?" A snort, so reminiscent of D'had's, emphasizes her incredulity, "I've experienced it!" And while she doesn't regale her uncle with tales of those scary-marvelous rides, her mouth curls in remembered thrills and her father's whole-hearted plunging into…risk? Yeah, she gets that. "Hm," she says of her papa's efforts to do right by them all. "I know. And y'know what? Marel probably won't cut him any slack but." Curiously there's also understanding in her tone for her half-sister's perspective, “"That's okay. All I ever wanted was him, with all the mess that went along with. Because… you only live once and no one's perfect." She ought to know that after the last Weyrleader let her know in no uncertain terms (by ripping her to shreds on more than one occasion) how very far short she fell, in his exalted opinion. "It was when papa left Ierne and later to the whiskey that I had a hard time with." However, "He came back. I won't lose him again, Uncle Lairgnen." Fierce are the words, followed by a more gentle, "I understand now, though." She rises on tiptoes to give her uncle another cheek cheek-kiss. "Thanks Uncle Lar."

"That so," Lairgnen replies, voice lifting in the hint of a question, but he'snot going to ask for details on that from his niece. Yes, TMI for sure though the explanation does bring a nod. "Yeah," the trader returns on her comment of how well things have turned out for her, "well suppose its not like that for everyone." He laughs then given her reaction for his mention of the blue dragon. "Of course you have." Another nod then, "No, from what I hear Marel hasn't, but she might be starting to come back around. Just you know Darsce he never wanted to leave any of you. If he did, don't think he'd still be around." A smile for that cheek-kiss and he reaches an arm around the young woman’s shoulder in a light squeeze of a pseudo-hug. “You’re welcome Dars.”

There's naught but another one of those skeptical looks from Darsce, though whether it's for her half sister softening or their father supposedly having no other option but to leave them. There are always choices, but, "I'm just glad he's back!" She repeats that, then a with a wicked little grin and a suggestive glimmer in her iceblue eyes, she flutters Lairgnen a saucy wink. "I suppose it's not, but we don't have to worry about those damn dragons messing things up for us when they rise." That's said as she leans into that half-hug of his. The sweet moment, as tenuous as a soap bubble, suddenly evaporates as her eyes drift across the water to the beach. The peacefully hazy expression sharpens instantly into icefire as she straightens up and yells, "Ohhhh no you don't!" Over at the entrance to the Treetop Cafe, one of the weyrfolk enlisted to help deliver cargo is trying to shove a resisting porcine into the door and up the stairs. "Igottagobye!" she says breathlessly to her uncle and then she whirls, stalking the errant worker, her voice raised to carry as her heels strike the gangplank on her way down, "Take the damn thing to the beastpens, you idiot! They're doing the slaughtering…!" With a flash her manicure gleams crimson in the rays of Rukbat as one finger (no, not the middle one, not yet anyway), points in the proper direction. Darsce and her clipboard are off to wreak havoc on the unwary. Faranth help them if they've stored anything amiss.

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