Spring Cleaning

Xanadu Weyr - Glass Workshop

With sandy beaches, significant forests and sizable mines available either immediately within the Weyr or within easy transport distance, Xanadu Weyr is a prime location for serious glasswork, and the glass workshop in the craft complex reflects that abundance. This vast building, which shares a wall with the apprentice dorms but is otherwise freestanding, is one of the larger structures in the complex. This shop is state of the art, with every new technical advance developed at the Fort or Landing craft halls in use here. The shop is usually busy day and night as crafters take advantage of the strong lighting provided by heat-resistant light fixtures and many windows, most made within this very room or in joint work with other crafters at the Weyr.

The south wall, which adjoins the apprentice dorms, and the north wall are both lined with kilns and glass forges for the glasscrafters to do their work. The eastern portion of the room seems to be devoted to teaching, as a number of mobile diagram boards have been erected there and desks are arranged in semicircles around each. The central portion of the room serves as the production area, with barrels of sand and various additives arrayed beside several long tables and charts. Finally, the west wall is made up almost entirely of cabinets and storage shelves.

Spring has come to the glass shops, and so has the need to clean out the kilns and forges, and move work to the other side of the shop until the weather cools. Since the glass shops shate a wall with the apprentice dorms, the crafters really don't want to make it warmer in there than it already is, with summer heat already present during spring. So all the glass crafters, from the youngest apprentice to the oldest master, have assembled to start shifting materials and projects from one side of the room to the other. Apprentices are hauling tubs of sand and the metal tools while the journeymen move the rods and sheets of glass across the room. The masters have the delicate task of relocating partially completed projects without breaking them, a task that is always full of nervous anticipation of disaster. No wonder someone has sent a request to the infirmary to have at least one healer standing by in case of injury.

Tenebrous…is not that healer. He's not really even associated with Xanadu anymore, but that hasn't stopped him from coming to the glasscrafters for his needs. He's at least passingly acquainted with one of them and he knows their work by reputation. In the spring's light, his hood is low as he pads over to the entrance of the complex, eyeing the chaos. "Now," he mutters to himself, "May not have been the best time for this…"

The crafter Ten knows is helping her mentor transfer a series of blown glass orbs to the storage cabinets which line the back wall of the shop. The delicate orbs are each being nestled into a box full of plant fuzz to protect them from jostling. Unfortunately, there are still several as yet unpacked, which are in dire danger of being introduced to the floor. An apprentice carrying a variety of blowing rods is coming down the aisle between worktops, and hasn't noticed that one of the shorter rods is canted out at /just/ the right angle to be hazardous to others. Uh-oh…

Hmm…One side of Tenebrous' lips quirks up in a little half smile as disaster approaches. Watch the poor apprentice get his face eaten off when he breaks all of that pretty glass…or intervene and lose a little bit of entertainment. With a roll of his eyes, he starts toward, waving his hand in the air at that unaware man. "Watch your angle," he calls sharply, absently tugging his hide gloves on again. Something tells him that things are about to get prickly…

Moria raises her head as she recognizes Tenebrous' voice, glancing over to see him approaching. Blinking, she turns to follow his gaze toward the apprentice - just in time to see the rod catch the edge of one of the smaller orbs, shattering it on impact. The journeywoman, heedless of the flying shard of glass, reaches out to grab the rod before it can shatter another orb, or worse.

The whole shop freezes for a moment when the distinctive sound of breaking glass ripples through the room. The guilty apprentice is left staring at the rod and journeywoman, his face a mixture of horror and fear when he realizes that the rod that Moria is holding so tightly is one of his bundle. "I'm s-s-sorry," he stammers, raising guilt-laden eyes to meet the regard of Moria and her mentor, master Erdwin. "I d-didn't realize he m-meant /me/." Gulp. Slowly, activity around the area resumes, with the other crafters detouring around the area until things can be sorted out and cleaned up.

Tenebrous finishes his approach, face mostly hidden under that hood of his. Still, the slight smile on it can be heard in his voice. "I would have thrown a rock or something, but under the circumstances, I felt that might have caused more harm than good." He eyes the mess on the floor and then the apprentice. "Word of advice: There's nothing wrong with screwing up, as long as you don't do it in front of anyone who cares." He reaches out to pat the man on the shoulder. "Just a thought." Then he's looking back at Moria with a nod of his head. "Journeywoman," he murmurs. "I trust you've been well since we last spoke?"

Moria sighs as she regards the lad, shaking her head. "Any time someone says 'watch out' or something of that ilk, check yourself and the area around you. It is better to be safe. Otherwise, someone might get hurt." To illustrate her point, the journeywoman carefully lowers the rod to the counter, supporting it with her other hand, and winces as she removes her right hand from around its length. Embedded in her palm are several shards of glass, ground in by grasping the rod to keep it from destroying anything else. Blood oozes sluggishly around the shards, staining her palm with streaks of red around the glittering fragments.

The apprentice turns a bit green when he sees the injuries, and again stammers out an apology. Recognizing that the lad would be more of a problem passed out, Erdwin moves around the table to take him by the shoulder and lead him away. They move off down the room to the equipment stands, and shortly Erdwin can be heard delivering a fuller dressing down, and assigning punishment duties.

Moria shakes her head again as the boy is led off, and cradles her injured hand in the other with a wince. "I knew I should have worn gloves, even if they make it harder to grip the orbs," she says, looking to Ten ruefully. "Aside from this, yes, I've been well. How about yourself? And you wouldn't happen to have a pair of tweezers on hand?"

"I normally use my teeth," Tenebrous grunts, but he's already fishing for his satchel and rummaging around. "Let's have that," he murmurs, nodding at her hand. Tweezers he comes up with, and once Moria's offered that hand, he leans over it. "Some of these have turned a little," he informs her quietly. "This will probably feel even better when I remove them than went they went in, just so you know. Do you want to sit down first?"

Moria grins at his quip, but sobers when he indicates that the shards have shifted. "Ah, yes, I think i do want to sit down, thank you." She suits action to words, reaching over to drag a stool around the edge of the table so she can stay in the strong light around the work station. "It didn't hurt so much going in, but as I understand it, that's adrenaline at work, and will wear off quickly?" Yes, that's more a question than a statement. The crafter winces as settling on the stool jostles her palm, but she resolutely holds it out to Tenebrous. "Please, have at," she murmurs, closing her eyes. Only to open then a moment later, watching what bit of Ten's face she can see, to say, "Oh, you didn't answer. How have you been?" Talking makes it easier, right?

"Oh, you know how it is," Tenebrous murmurs, his voice distracted with his work. "Seasons change, people do stupid things, stupid thing need fixing. Healing…Whatever." The first piece comes up with a burning little tug and he sets it down on the table. "That's a neat shape," he mumbles. Then, "I haven't been around Xanadu much. Work to be done elsewhere." Then the second piece comes out.

For the first few moments, it seems Moria is actually going to watch Ten remove the pieces of glass. But as the tugging begins, she gulps and closes her eyes, turning her face away from her hand. In a strained voice, she continues the conversation. "You were at the Ista hatching. Looked like you were nodding when one of the girls Impressed. Friend of yours?" She pauses to hiss softly as the first shard escapes her flesh, then the second. "I can show you lots of neat shapes, so long as they aren't in my skin," she mutters. "Glass fractures into some very interesting forms."

"So do bones, as it turns out," Tenebrous murmurs conversationally. The glass tinks quietly in the counter as he sets each piece aside. "And yes." His pace slows for a moment. "I was at Ista." Then he starts moving at that steady pace again, lifting the final piece out of her hand. "Her name is Hasha, and she's a very good friend of mine. We haven't spoken in some time, however. As I understand it, raising dragon whelps takes a bit of concentration."

Moria keeps her eyes closed until the tugging finally stops, at which point she blinks at Tenebrous. "Well, yes, but there's no reason to not have time to see someone. Dragon's are mostly self-sufficient. They need tending for their skin and help with food and such at first, but it's been long enough that she should certainly have at least /some/ free time. You should visit her more." This pronouncement is matched with a warm smile, and a firm nod. "Besides, it probably is nicer at Ista right now than it is here. Or cooler, at least. Fall at Ista is supposed to be gorgeous." Moria regards her palm thoughtfully, which is bleeding much more freely now that the bits of glass are out of the way. "That's gonna ache for a while. Shards."

Tenebrous jerks his chin at the table. "The shards are right there, actually, but I appreciate the sentiment." He glances around the room. "This will need to be rinsed before I can finish work on it." He glances around the room for a moment before reaching under his coat and coming up with a canteen. Cool water flows over her hand for a moment before Tenebrous grunts, "Up above your heart, please. This will take me a moment." Then he's no longer moving slowly, his hands blurring in and out of his satchel with practiced motions that suggest he's had to do this fast…several times. Bandages come out first, and then a small tube of some kind of tart ointment, which he liberally begins spreading onto them. "This," he comments, "will not feel good."

Moria makes a face at Ten's glib response, but is quick to follow his instructions, raising her hand to about shoulder level and tilting it to reduce blood flow to the palm. His comment elicits a wry smile. "Does it ever feel good?" she inquires, raising a brow. "I thought there was some kind of requirement for medical treatment to be as uncomfortable and painful as possible," she adds facetiously, wincing as the ointment comes in contact with her torn flesh.

Tenebrous wavers a hand before starting to wrap that palm. The burn is swift and sudden, but almost immediately, it begins to abate, growing more and more dull until only numbness remains. "Most things hurt when they're treated because it's the body's way of telling you that it's hurt and something's not right. Archived records tell stories about people that were once born without the ability to FEEL pain. That caused all kinds of trouble…" He ties the wrap off with a quick jerk. "See a healer in 24 and 48 for a dressing change," he says clinically.

Moria nods as Tenebrous gives her the instructions, lowering her hand into her lap when he's finished with it. "Thanks, and will do. So, what are you doing at Xanadu right now? Not that I'm objecting, since your presence was very helpful, but I'd heard you turned in your knot and have been travelling. What brings you back to this sunny, seaside Weyr?" Moria steps down from the stool and, using her bound hand gingerly, returns it to the side of the table before lifting a dustpan and fine-bristled brush from a hook on the table. She motions to Ten to move away from the table, where the broken glass seems to have contained itself, sparing the floor from an in-depth scrubbing.

Tenebrous shrugs. "I have an apprentice here, Phylicia. The senior Weyrwoman permits me to come and go through the Weyr as I please because of her tutelage, and I still make a sometimes home in the deep woods to the north and east." He slides away on silent feet while Moria does her work. "It can usually be assumed that, if I'm here, it's to give her a lesson or because I miss my cave."

Moria hmmms reflectively as she carefully sweeps the shards of glass into the pan, taking care to not flick bits of glass onto the floor or her clothes. "How is she doing? Phylicia, I mean. I don't see much of her, but I run into her weyrmate fairly often." She shakes her head. "They seem so young to be weyrmates, but I know people usually mature faster at the Weyrs than in holds and halls. It just seems… odd." The woan pauses then, frowning over her shoulder at Tenebrous. "You have a… cave?" The woman's tone is confused, and she tilts her head quizzically as she regards him. "Why?"

Tenebrous shrugs. "Why not? It never needs to be maintained, it's cool in the summer, warm in the winter, almost no one knows where it is, so I've got privacy…" He spreads his hands. "Everyone should be so lucky." he leans against another table, checking to be sure there's nothing fragile on it before he does so. "She's fine, all things considered. She's been through a lot over the last few months, but she holds up well. She's very strong, and an apt pupil." He smirks. "She can't swim worth a damn, but…"

Moria blinks, then shakes her head. "But /why/? Why a cave instead of a room somewhere here? Isn't it awkward to have to come here to get supplies and such all the time? And it isn't like you can't get privacy here. Just close the door to your room. You could even lock it, if you felt the need." She shakes her head again, then carefully transfers the contents of the dustpan into a container marked 'cullet'. After all, no reason to throw it away when it can be melted down for re-use. It's cheaper that way, too. "Besides, isn't it lonely, being out there by yourself?"

Tenebrous chuckles. "But see, you don't know where my cave is. I can count, on one hand, the number of people who DO know where my cave is. I like that." He pauses. "Not you, personally, but the general public. I enjoy my privacy. I grow what I need in the forest. it sustains me, and in turn, I watch over it when I can." He shrugs. "And the trip back to the Weyr doesn't bother me. Keeps me in shape."

Moira shakes her head once more, obviously not understanding his reasoning. "No wonder they call you odd. You are!" She smiles slightly, returning the now-clean pan and brush to their hook. "You watch over the forest, hmm? How's that work?" Yes, there is some amusement in her eyes, but she does seem honestly curious. "I mean, how can you watch over a forest? It's a lot bigger than a person."

Tenebrous shrugs, not ruffled in the least by her comments. She's only the 34th one in line today… "You've noticed," he says drollly. How Keen." He flashes a litle smile under that hood. "The forest tells people things, even if they choose not to listen. I do. Humans have stopped paying attention to a lot of things like that and I simply chose not to. The state of the plants and animals in the area tells one a great deal about the general arboreal health of a place." He folds his arms. "Though I confess, I do have a secret weapon."

Moria wrinkles her nose and shakes her head. "You don't /have/ to be odd. You just like people not being able to predict what you are going to do," she accuses, though not with any irritation. "Even if you are paying attention to these things, what can you do with the knowledge? How does it /help/?" No, she's not going to ask… oh, well, maybe. "Secret weapon?"

Tenebrous shrugs. "I'm not odd. What I do makes perfect sense to me, and to a few others. That the rest of this Weyr, of omst othe rWeyrs and holds don't understand the whats and the whys of my profession doesn't concern me in the least. It might have at one point, but not anymore." He taps a finger on the side of his arm. "I enjoy my privacy. You want to know why I do it?" He jerks his thumb to the north. "Go hang around at Ista during search for awhile. Not everyone is like that, but there are enough people around every Weyr that are prone to that kind of foolishness that my way is…preferable to me. As for my secret weapon…" He leans in a little. "I misspoke. It's not a secret weapon, per se. It's a weapon that is secret except to glasscrafters whose hand I have just cleaned up. Now that you mention it, I'm not sure why I called it a secret weapon in the first place." He blinks. "Wait. it's coming to me…" He grins.

Moria rolls her eyes, turning away from the healer and resuming her packaging of the remaining globes. "I don't know why I bothered asking. Nevermind. I don't want to know. I don't care. Go saunter off and do your weird skulking thing somewhere else," she says, shaking her head. "You want to avoid dealing with people, fine. Be a recluse. Have fun missing out on everything else, too." She mutters more softly, to herself, "Stupid men."

Tenebrous makes a noise in the back of his throat. "Who skulks? There's no skulking here. There's no skulking there, either, not unless I'm trying to trap dinner, and then it's not so much skulking as it is patiently waiting." He begins rummaging in his satchel again. "And if, by 'dealing with people', you mean diplomatic overindulgences, exceptionally confused Weyrstaff and a staggering amount of public nudity…yes. I'm happy avoiding that. And given that said things are what I usually encounter when I come out of my little hole in the ground, one might understand my hesitance." He finally finds what he's looking for, producing a small, glass vial that's willed with a bit of clear, green liquid. "But enough flirting." He sets the vial down onto the table with a little tink. "I need…more of these.."

Moria turns back to Tenebrous, raising a brow. "Not skulking? You who slip in and out of the Weyr in your carefully pulled up hood and try to avoid humanity as best possible, are not skulking? Perhaps you should review the definition of the word and update your vocabulary appropriately," she responds tartly. "You avoid all people because of the actions of a few. I think you are over-reacting. Humans aren't supposed to be isolated. Your studies of Terran history should tell you that much." Moria regards the vial for several long moments before lifting it an examining it. "Any reason you can't get them in the infirmary? That's where most go when we make them, and we certainly made a great number of vials and jars during the numbweed harvest last fall. I can't imagine that they have /all/ been put to use."

Tenebrous raises a slow eyebrow as Moria rattles on, and after a moment, he simply shifts his satchel around to a secure place behind him again.. "I tell you what. You look like you're busy here, and even if you weren't, you should be in the Infirmary." He waves a hand and starts off. "Keep that hand clean, Journeywoman. I'll find someone else."

Moria shakes her head and sighs and the healer moves off, then shrugs. "Do you want this back?" she asks, holding out the vial. It has something in it, after all. Not waiting to see if he does, she sets it on the edge of the table and turns back to packaging the last orb, carefully tucking the fluff around it so that it will not shift in the box. She is still being very careful of her bandaged hand, but doesn't let it keep her from doing her job.

Tenebrous just shakes his head, stepping out of the archway that leads to the area being moved. "Not nearly bad enough to go back for it," he mutters to himself. Then he smirks a little and quickens his pace. "Thank the stones that place is well ventilated," he chuckles.

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