This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

Xanadu Weyr - Candidate Barracks
A long, low ceilinged room opens off the entrance hall to the arena. One wall is slightly curved, set against the outer wall of the arena itself. Cots are set in two rows along the length of the room, each with its own small press at the foot for personal belongings. Wide windows are spaced along the outside wall, letting sunlight in, while other lights are available for the night time hours. It's always warm here when there are eggs on the sands, and candidates seldom need more than a light blanket.

By now, most candidates have had plenty of time to make themselves at home in the barracks, but the barracks doesn't just house human residents! While the actual owner of this cot was off working or doing lessons or whatever it is people do, there have been a couple of VERY INDUSTRIOUS firelizards swarming over the bed of someone who doesn't actual have firelizards at all. What once was a very neat cot now has ALL SORTS of lumps and bumps where there previously had been none before. The pillow is actually wiggling as a wing flaps inside as the gold contorts herself around her newfound treasure. She's not alone for long because bronze Molotov lets out a muffled bugle of triumph as he pops in from between right above the cot, dripping something bloody something which could have only been scavenged from the remains of a dragon's meal.

Aforementioned industrious person has indeed been hard at work. Today was a split day - where there were chores (dragon washing), work at the office, and personally appropriated lessons afterward. This industrious someone is also an exhausted someone. And as such, poor Stefyr doesn't react to the sight of his disheveled and occupied cot as well as he might on any other night (he certainly hasn't seemed to mind when Pima or the cats or the firelizards or all of them together have temporarily appropriated the space in the past), but upon spotting the mess, tonight, he gapes. That moment when Molotov appears from between is one of those frozen and then something that should be captured in slow motion because as that meaty, juicy prize dangles above his pillow, which houses his most precious possession, there's a thunderous roar from the usually placid blond, "NO!" And he's dashing (crashing?) down the row toward his cot as though any amount of his speed or wishing could save things now.

That ROAR would be enough to cause most to scatter, Molotov and his entrails are no exception. The bronze drops most of those slippery coils right on the pillow as he dives under it. Maitai meanwhile has more spine, the gold pushes her head out from the pillowcase, eyes whirling just ever so slightly orange as she hisses right back at the charging candidate. This is the scene that Rhodelia walks in on, towel still wrapped up like a turban on her head, already in her jammies despite the earliness of the evening. She blinks as she takes in the scene or what bit she can see of charging Stefyr and appearing/disappearing firelizard. "What happened?" Chaos, clearly chaos.

On any other day, the FARMER would've known better than to roar, but that was a visceral reaction, some instinct he probably didn't know he had to protect something that had value to him. Maybe he's just never had anything to value like that before. But today is not any other day, and there go the entrails onto the pillow and a blood-touched bronze right on under it. "RHODELIA!" is the next shout, though it's not a bellow as the first was, just a normal, no-nonsense command/demand/something super weird to come from Stefyr at all. He stops at the foot of the bed and stares. Then he stares at Rhodelia. He probably doesn't take in her turband or her jammies or anything else at all, his wide blue eyes are on her face, his expression torn between outrage and bewilderment. He gestures helplessly between his bed and the owner of these things, "What, by the First Egg, are they doing to my bed?!" He's still not calm, but at least it doesn't seem like he's about to go berserk on the mess-making firelizards.

Why did Rhodelia have to say anything? That's instant regret in her face and postures as she certainly looks like she's about to turn tail and run as soon as her name is called out. While Stefyr might be a little distracted, a bronze talon reaches out as Molotov attempts to drag the entrails back under the pillow. Rhody reluctantly creeps over towards the gesticulating Stefyr, peering over at the bed. "Do you want a firelizard?" Probably not the best time to offer all mayhem considered. "Looks like she finally laid her clutch." And counting bumps in the bed, it looks to be a fairly sizeable one as well.

"I want my dictionary," the one that Rhody might have cause to know is Stefyr's Very First Book of his own and was given to him by R'hyn of all people. (IT'S R'HYN'S FAULT, OKAY, GUYS?) The big blond looks pointedly at Rhodelia. These are hers, this is her mess. Only then her question that he already reflexively answered actually registers. "No, I sharding don't want a firelizard." And then it all hits as one and he's looking just gobsmacked. "She laid her eggs in my bed? Fucking shell." Then he's moving, around the bed to the pillow, daring firelizard wrath - hissing, scratching, biting - BRING IT ON, BRO, to rescue that one precious book. "They can have the blasted cot." If he can have his dictionary back.

"Oh-kaaaay…" Rhodelia isn't immediately connection the precious dictionary to the whole firelizard mess because WHO SLEEPS WITH A BIG BOOK UNDER THEIR PILLOW? "Is your dictionary in your trunk?" That are of the bed seems relatively lizard free, unlike the poor pillow. Maitai HISSES again like her life depends on it as Stefyr moves in. Rhody also moves in to try and wrangle angry hissing momma gold. Right as she's pulling the gold away and possibly as Stefyr is reaching in for the book, she has one more parting gift for the much misused cot. Her sides contract and a misty blue egg falls luckily only a few inches to the bed and Rhodelia sighs. "If you give me an hour, I can probably find a sand bucket. And some new bed linens." She won't leave Stefyr to clean up the mess. She does have some sense of responsibility after all.

IT'S A MODERATE SIZED BOOK, BUT MAYBE A LITTLE THICK FOR PILLOWS, SO… FAIR. STEFYR DOES IT IS THE ANSWER ANYWAY. "It's under my-" And he reacts, his hand moving away from the goal of book and to instinctively provide his arm as a guard lest the egg roll too far. Really, the big man is looking more overwhelmed than not by all this crazy. "Why doesn't she lay her eggs in sand to begin with??" LIKE A NORMAL FIRELIZARD. Or whatever. What's normal? He doesn't know anymore. "It's fine, there are like a hundred cots in here." And not even half are full with the present candidates. "I'll just move my things." Rhody will still have to clean up, but it won't be as pressing? He sighs and shifts and carefully lifts the corner of the pillow trying to hook his fingers around the edge of the book. He winces when he pulls it out to find blood and entrail juice rubbed across the cover. HE IS NOT GOING TO CRY, but he does look, very briefly, devastated as he looks down at the book. "I'm going to take this to see if there are any tanners still awake." He mumbles, possibly more to himself than to Rhodelia, but maybe also to her. "I'll move my stuff when I get back." And if he chooses a place a little farther away than most of the candidates have chosen to be for his new spot… well, maybe there won't be a second incursion of firelizards and eggs before the much larger eggs hatch. He really only has eyes for his book as he rises and starts to move off down the aisle.

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