The Docks
The main dock of Xanadu Weyr has a T shape, the central pier extending out and then splitting into two branches. That central dock extends slightly past the branching, making a square often used as a staging area for supplies or simply as a spot to sit and relax.
Pointed away from the main beach, there's the dock where ships moor. The fishing vessels who make their home here are joined by trading ships and the occasional personal craft, bobbing on the waves.
In the other direction, there's an area used by the dolphineers. There's a shack with supplies, extra fins and breathing gear hung against the outside, and a large raft moored to the dock near a ladder. It floats low in the water, easy to clamber on or off, and on it is a Dolphin Bell, the rope dangling into the water to let the dolphins summon their crafters.
Is it surprising that when it came time to claim pets Sylvarin not-so-subtly headed directly for the ones that /weren't/ alive? The little IOU was his first choice, but by the time he got around to it the slip of paper was already gone. Instead he found himself in possession of one very large very flat very round rock. He was /more/ than happy to just throw the thing at the bottom of his trunk or slip it into a bag somewhere but apparently that is /not/ how you take care of pets. Which is why he currently has the thing with him…strapped to the front of his chest…in some sort of baby-carrying contraption. Does he look pained at having to be carrying this thing around? Looking like THAT?! Yes. And he's perhaps attempting to find some seclusion so he doesn't look utterly ridiculous in front of too many people. The place he seeks solitude? The docks. Because this is ridiculous.
Rhodelia didn't really have a choice in her pet. Somehow, it was already on her trunk and so… it's her's. There was only a little bit of cursing as she manages to scoop it into a bucket as Mr. Stabby is appropriately named and a fighter. And since empty buckets are not a spiderclaw's native enviornment, the bartender's found her way down to the docks with not just one, but two buckets. One is currently sitting in the middle of the dock occassionally making a rattling noise from whatever is within. For the other, well, Rhodelia is currently hanging half off the dock trying to dip it into the sea below. It's a look of great concentration on her face, complete with tongue sticking out as she just can't reach. "SHARD IT!"
Sylvarin grimaces sa he realizes that he's /not/ alone and someone's going to see him looking absolutely ridiculous. Depending on how long he has this idiotic rock, his entire image is going to be ruined because he certainly can't hide forever. He's /trying/ to casually hide the rock strapped to his chest like a baby by crossing his arms (it can't suffocate!). He moves up toward Rhodelia, also attempting a /casual/ greeting. "Hey…dealing with your pet?" Because what /else/ could she be doing. DON'T MIND THE ROCK THERE. It's more funny because the rest of his clothes are quite nice as usual. He has the typical button-down shirt and tapering pant legs. It's some nice material. That's getting wrinkled. By the stupid rock.
Rhodelia would pshaw if she could hear Sylvarin's own inner monologue, but as she's not a dragon and she's got her own hands full, his inner secrets are safe enough for now. She inches forward with more muttered cursing and nearly teeters into the dock. There's much splashing but some water does end up into the bucket although since she's slipped a bit from her former process the whole getting back up thing is problematic, especially considering the now somewhat heavy bucket. "I uh… yeah. Can you grab this??" The this is the bucket she wiggles although the movement causes her grasp on the dock to be just a bit more perilous. The rock is not minded, mostly because she's desperately grasping to the dock with one hand trying not to fall in. Full glance at Sylvarin would require neck contortions Rhody's just not prepared to deal with at the moment.
"Damn, woman…." As in 'what a predicament' not in the darn you kind of way! Quick steps move the baker forward and he leans over to grab the bucket from her hands. He's quick to pull it up onto the docks and place it down. It takes a bit more effort given the angle he's picking up from, but certainly nowhere near impossible to move. As soon as it seems safely in place he's offering her a hand in case she needs help. If she doesn't, all the better! "You can swim, right?" Juuuust in case. Because if he needs to jump in after a drowning Rhody this /probably/ won't end well. Is that a flash of worry in those blue-green eyes? Possibly. He's watching her quite closely for the moment!
Predicaments are practically Rhodelia's middle name. If she had one, or even a last name. The bucket is quickly relinquished over to Sylvarin. There's a bit of limb waving once that arm is free, but eventually Rhodelia does manage to haul herself up without falling in, although her hair and shirt are very damp. "Thanks." Just one word as she moves to dump that hard earned water into the other bucket and some of the clinking that had been near omni-present calms down a bit. And only now does the woman turn back to her fellow candidate and eyebrows raise at the rock-holding gettup. "Did you get stuck with the short end of the stick… or rock?"
Sylvarin quickly relaxes when Rhodelia does't seem to be back on steady legs and soon his attention turns to the other bucket. Upon glancing inside he grimaces almost immediately at the creepy crawly thing. "It's hideous." How kind! Any hopes that she'd continue to not notice, or ignore, the rock strapped to his chest are quite quickly dashed and he straightens up with a quick roll of the eyes. "No, but this isn't what I anticipated. I took the rock because I figured it wouldn't /need/ to be taken care of." Common sense really. "But apparently I wasn't taking /care/ of it and this is the result." Apparently he got an earful from someone, perhaps and AWLM. "Honestly, how the shards do you feed a rock?" With more /tiny/ rocks? This is not likely to go well.
"You're hideous!" It's an automatic response from Rhodelia as she is poking in the bucket to make sure Mr. Stabby is still stabbing. With how quickly she pulls back her hand, waving it a bit, there's a good chance the answer is yes. "You're not really. You can at least tell people you decided to rock your new look? And it could be worse. She could have given us all eggs to carry around and make sure we didn't break them?" She shrugs at that idea and then smirks at the idea of feeding a rock. "I think moss. Feed it moss."
"A very good source tells me I'm not hideous." Sylvarin quips with a smirk, which turns into a quiet chuckle when Rhodelia's snatching her hand out of the bucket. Next on the list of sounds coming from the baker is a quiet groan for the pun (whether intended or not). "No one that knows me would believe for a second I decided to accessorize this sharding piece of earth." Because there is a significant chance that the baker washed this thing half-a-million (exaggeration) times before strapping it to himself because it came from /nature/. "Someone has to take care of that where egg though." And he's just not happy it isn't him. "So now I have to gather and smear moss on this thing?" Some candidates take this challenge well…clearly Sylv isn't one of them!
"Is the source a mirror? You might not want to always trust a mirror," Rhodelia gives no more detail about why not to trust mirrors, just statement like its a fact. The groan just gets a grin revealing that yes, that was totally pun intended. "I had forgotten someone had an egg. Besides… if this was Leirith's idea, she's probably only going to remember for a few days then we can go back to normal. Or Risali can decide to abandon us on a spaceship again." There's a little bit of a shudder at that thought. "I'll take care of the spiderclaw. As long as I can see the sky."
"That's one of my sources, but I'll be sure to ask it to tell me the truth next time." Sylvarin chuckles quietly before leaning against one of the pillars on the docks. He'd rather not sit on the ground where all sorts of things have likely been dropped (perhaps fish guts?). "I'm certainly hoping that's what happens, because I'm already quite tired of this time." At the talk of the spaceship there's a hint of something secretive in the baker's features, a quiet twitch of his lips. "Space wasn't all that bad." A sentiment not likely shared by many. "Much better than a forest or some sort of island at least." How has this man even survived this long?
Mirror, mirror on the wall… Rhodelia just snickers as she stretches out on the dock, regardless of however many fish guts have definitely been dropped on it. She's probably stepped in worst before. "You could try dropping the rock off at the creche? Foster off your rock?" Is this pet-ownership or parenting advice that she's giving? The mention of space not being so bad has Rhody's dubious eyebrow going up again. "Not that bad? For the first day maybe. The party was fine, when we knew we were going back but…" She pulls her legs in closer so she can wrap her arms around them. "I don't like the whole not knowing."
"If I'm getting lectured on carrying this properly, I somehow feel they'll take negatively to me fostering the rock off. Though….maybe if I give it a few days." Sylvarin may already be thinking about attempting to trade someone for that IOU paper. An eyebrow raises in Rhodelia's direction then and Sylvarin shakes his head, "Of course we were going to come back, it was just a matter of when. The Weyr can't just drop off the entire candidate class up there forever…the dragonets would have nowhere to go." Though he did wish he had a chance to bring more clothes. "The view was great, things were quiet, there wasn't a lot of nature…if we had a better kitchen and more ingredients it could have been almost perfect."
That IOU paper is probably worth more than its weight in whatever highly desirable resource a candidate might have on his hands. Good luck. Rhodelia is going to stick with Mr. Stabby and definitely not eat him. She frowns at the talk of space. "Yeah, of course they were going to get us but there's still a couple sevens before the hatching at least. Were we only going to be up there for a seven? Two? A month? If anybody knew, they weren't really telling." And that irked her, deeply. And probably led to more than one nightmare. "Seems like they could probably use a baker. Wanna get posted up there if you don't impress?"
"Sounds like you're someone who likes to plan?" Sylvarin hazards a guess as he glances down at Rhodelia, one eyebrow raised. "I guess if it had lasted much longer I probably would have gotten frustrated with the lack of things to do…and lack of ingredients." He does have to give her that at least. "I might consider it for the occasional vacation, but I don't want to have to wait inconvenient amounts of time just because we're out of one thing or another." And /rarely/, very /rarely/ he'll search out his own ingredients if he /needs/ to.
"Not really that…" Rhodelia's face scrunches up as she searches for the right words. "There was really nowhere to be alone up there. I mean, there were only so many floors." And with a whole bunch of candidates running around in addition to the techcrafters and starcrafters and any other support staff? Things can get crowded. "While we might not be able to go too far, it's good to have the option of being able to try and find a tree or something to claim as your own." There is at least the ghost of the smirk as he mentions being frustrated. "Could always get a well trained firelizard? They can fetch things, sometimes so I hear."
"There's some areas in the cargo bay that are kind of secluded but…yeah, you do have a point." Sylvarin gives a nod to accompany his words as well as a little shrug. "I guess this is just something I don't tend to think ahead about it, kind of took it day by day." And he probably /would/ have gotten annoyed and irritated if they stayed up there too much longer, but thankfully they didn't. So he just lived in the moment! "Can they go that easily between space ad Pern? Because if they can…" It certainly opens up a lot of possibilities he's becoming silently thoughtful about. "I'd have to work really hard on the training." But then again, he's here having issues with taking care of a /rock/ so….
Rhodelia gives a bit of a sigh. "Whenever I ended up trying to cargo bay, I'd always end up hearing footsteps echoing. I guess someone else was pacing down there?" Or it was a ghost, but probably an equally stir-crazy fellow candidate. She's looking on the bright side. "I never thought I'd be so glad to see ground. or the barracks." There's a half-hearted smirk for that. As for firelizard's abilities, she shrugs. "No idea. I haven't gotten one myself. My sister does I think but well… I haven't seen her in over a turn. Or lived near her in even longer."
"Yeah, even down there you kind of had to search for a quiet corner. It was never /truly/ empty." Sylvarin looks thoughtful for a moment before chuckling, "I probably needed another good seventy up there before I'd truly be thankful for some normal greenery again…but there are certainly a few things I'm appreciating a /lot/ more now that we're back." As for the firelizard issues he shrugs a bit, "My parents have flits, and some siblings, but I don't think this is the kind of question that comes up too often." Space traveling flits for the sake of gathering ingredients!
Rhodelia stares at the baker like he grew a second head or something equally uncomprehendable. "You're a baker. Aren't you supposed to like plant things? Like those flowers you went looking for that one time…" That ended up with Rhody stuck in a tree. As for the space-traveling firelizards, she tilts her head while she ponders it before ending in a shrug. "You could ask someone at the dragonhealing annex? If anybody has any books or stuff about the betweening abilities of firelizards and dragons, it's probably them? I forgot to count when we were going up and down so don't know if it took dragons longer."
"That was done out of /desperation/ because no one else would do it for me," Sylvarin grumbles, still wincing at the memory of the /ordeal/. "I like fruits and plants that have been collected, cleaned, and placed in front of me. Got absolutely /no/ interest in being anywhere close to their natural habitat." The baker tits his head slightly, gaze moving skywards before he gives a few nods. "Good point, if I /do/ ever decide to work up there for a little bit I'll have to track someone down and ask." Though, no use worrying /too/ much about a future that hasn't happened yet. "So how are you liking candidacy?" Because SMALL TALK. "I'm curious about the eggs now that we're back down here." Are they pretty? Ugly? Who knows!
A flash of inspiration crosses Rhodelia's face. "Did you see those hydroponic bays? I don't think they had as much dirt as normal stuff…" Seeing as they weren't being grown in the floor, she's just assuming. "You could even get cleaner plants!" And she'll just let the topic of firelizards drop as she adds a bit more water to Mr. Stabby's makeshift tank and freezes at the mention of eggs. "They're… bigger than I thought they'd be. What about you?" The last is hastily added on while she still doesn't actually answer the question about her own feelings.
"I did, and while they /still/ definitely made me cringe you're right….I find them much more agreeable. Less bugs to worry about, less soil, plenty of clean water." Sylvarin isn't quite grinning at the thought but it's certainly the most positive thing he's /ever/ really had to say about plants. "I guess other than not really having my space anymore I haven't fully seen much of a change yet. Other than that and the extra chores I'm still just doing my usual baking and such." Though perhaps things will get much more real for him once he actually goes to see the eggs and eventually touches them.
"How do you survive?" Rhodelia shakes her head. Seeing as how she's sitting on the possibly fish-gutty docks, a little dirt doesn't bother her. Other things certainly, but not a little dirt. "I don't think I had really gotten used to having my own space, so it really isn't that much. The new chores are… interesting. Sometimes. I at least haven't gotten the stables yet. Don't think that will be interesting." Just mucking, mucking and more mucking which isn't thrilling, but probably good preparation for early weyrlinghood.
"It's quite easy really, someone else makes everything other than the desserts. And I stay indoors as much as possible." Why is exactly why he's a pale baker and not tanned in any way. "The day I get stables…" Is the day something terrible happens in the barracks. He'll probably end up in the infirmary having some sort of breakdown. Which is going to go GREAT with all his /ego/ and his /pride/. Such a fragile human being, this one. "Maybe I'll get lucky and never draw it…" The baker is currently on the docks leaning on a pillar with a large flat rock strapped to his chest like a baby. The word 'PET' is still scrawled on it of course.
"They let you get away with that as an apprentice?" Rhodelia shakes her head, although clearly Sylvarin did make it past apprenticeship unless he stole his old knot. "You can trade you know, although probably not if you use up any favors owed to get rid of the rock." She finishes finagling the water levels in the two buckets to whatever level she deemed appropriate and so the contents of the second bucket just get flung back towards the water again.
Nessalyn is not alone as she makes her way down toward the docks, still grumpy about their return to Pern. Who needs a dragon when you can just stay on the Yoko? Trailing behind the frowning woman is an equally ill-tempered cat, whose tail continues to swish with every step as though he's just waiting for the opportunity to reach out and slash the first hand that comes near him. HE'S TUFF. "Why would you want to get rid of the rock?" she intrudes, jumping in to the conversation without an invitation (as always). "You don't have to feed it, or whatever else you need to do to keep things alive." She's a great pet owner already.
"Well, I'm part of the baker craft /specifically/ so not really dealing with the regular food cooking. "I did have to do more gathering as an apprentice though." But that is long and thankfully gone at this point. "I think the only thing I'd /want/ to trade for is the IOU paper." The rest of the choices might go equally as badly as this rock. Sylvarin glances at Nessalyn's arrivals and frowns at having to be seen with BABY ROCK by yet another person. "That's exactly what I /thought/…but apparently that doesn't count because now I have this piece of earth strapped to my chest so that I can /care/ for it. And I'm sure they'll expect me to 'feed' it…Rhodelia helpfully suggested moss." There's a glance towards the cat following her, one eyebrow raised.
Oh wait, there's a cat? Rhodelia's just totally ignoring whatever griping Sylvarin and Nessalyn will have. She's fine with having a living thing in her care even if she doesn't know what one would feed a spiderclaw aside from butter. She coos when she sees the tom, battlescared though he might be. She doesn't go near him, but she does reach out her hand and make that tsking noise trying to invite the kitty closer and if that doesn't work, even call out "Hey, kitty, kitty, kitty!" Plus, her fingers totally smell like spiderclaw for reasons.
"Aren't you cute?" Nessalyn coos at Sylvarin in an obnoxious baby voice, much like most people would speak to a cute, fuzzy animal. If Sylvarin was hoping for help or support from this quarter, too bad. She's rather enjoying the image of Sylv wit htaht rock strapped to his chest. No one mind her while she stares a little with a deeply amused smirk curling at her lips. The cat pauses a few feet from his (temporary) owner's legs, his ginger head tilting as Rhodelia calls to him. That spiderclaw scent is tempting, but he doesn't come when called. Instead, he saunters his way over toward those buckets. What's this? Dinner?
*with that
Sylvarin is /more/ than happy to let Rhodelia get distracted by the cat, it means that he can sufficiently stay back and ignore it. He instead remains leaning on that pillar, baby-rock well protected and strapped in. There's an outright /scowl/ when Nessalyn talks to him in that baby voice. CLEARLY she is not at all amusing and her witty remarks and such. "Don't you have anything better to be doing at the moment?"
Rhodelia is fine with being ignored by a cat, really she is. Look at her crossing her arms and everything. The whole trying to play it cool doesn't last long because once the cat gets over to her bucket, she starts moving into action calling out "NoNoNoNoNoNo!!!" But this was exactly the moment that Mr. Stabby was armed for! Once a kitty-cat face gets close enough to the bucket, there's some more rattling and a flash as the butterknife. Whether he actually got his target is hard to say since it happens almost the same time as Rhody is grabbing the bucket. "I gotta go!" Where doesn't matter. Her and her spiderclaw are going to be going somewhere not here for the moment.
Cat hisses and lashes out when that knife comes in contact, possibly managing to smack at least the weapon in the process. But sadly, his meal (or death battle?) is snatched away from him by Rhody, whom he also takes a swipe at for good measure. HOW DARE YOU, YOUNG LADY. For a short distance, bartender and bucket are trailed by a ginger tomcat intent upon getting his prey, but opportunity isn't ample enough, and he finally gives up and comes trotting back. Nessalyn seems entirely unconcerned by this, barely even glancing toward the cat as he begins to leave, and paying even less attention when he returns. "Nooope!" She drags the word out, grinning. "I'm not sure there could be anything better to do than this.
"I could think of several dozens things that you could be doing instead of standing here." Sylvarin continues to frown at Nessalyn, arms crossing over the rock-baby. At least it doesn't have a name yet? There's a glance up towards the departing Rhodelia and a brief wave for her before he's eyeing Nessalyn's feline suspiciously. "So how's your little project? Don't imagine you're training him to be an attack feline?" Anything to get her away from the topic of that things weighing down on his chest!
"You're squishing your child," Nessalyn observes solemnly, like she actually cares. "Or pet, whatever." She's not entirely clear on what's going on here, honestly. "What's it's name?" Cat settles himself near her feet, not quite touching, and begins grooming himself. There's sand on his paws from crossing that giant litterbox, and he wants it gone. Nessalyn shrugs, glancing down at her new charge before lifting her gaze to Sylvarin again. "He's fine. Won't let me touch him, but he keeps following me everywhere."
"I'm sure it'll do just fine without oxygen," Sylvarin replies, arms pressing even more tightly to his chest. "Name?" There's an incredulous look shot in her direction, brows knitting further on this defined features. "It's a rock, it doesn't need a name. Or food. Or to be carried like this." BUT HERE HE IS. Doing exactly that. Thanks random AWLM or whatever authority figure that took issue with his treatment of the pet rock. His gaze drops to the cat once more and his lips purse slightly, "Well that's good I guess….seems like he's pretty self sufficient."
Nessalyn is, for the record, sans crutch, although she is still limping. Even when standing still, it's clear she favors her good leg. Definitely didn't forget to mention that when entering the scene, nope. "Wow, so heartless." Her tone is flat, with no indication that she actually cares whether he squishes his rock or offers it a name. She's just here to be difficult. "Obviously it does, or you wouldn't be doing that." One hand lifts to gesture to whatever it is that Sylvarin is doing, the very sight of which continues to draw a grin from her. "Isn't that what cats are supposed to be? I'm perfectly happy with something that doesn't ask anything of me."
"Somebody else /tells/ me it does, whether that's an actual truth or not is…well frankly it's wrong. But in some cases you do what you're told." Sylvairin lets out a sign, finally letting his hands drop so that he can slide them into his pockets. "Well I hope you /enjoy/ your low maintenance living pet." Because he certainly isn't going to enjoy his but at least someone should. "Anyways, I should be heading back to the Weyr…time to…" Maybe he's going to wash it again? Who really knows.
"Why would you do what you're told?" Her tone is genuinely perplexed. Look, he just attempted to poison a bunch of people on the Yoko, THIS SHOULD BE THE LEAST OF HIS WORRIES. That smirk twists itself into a faint frown of disapproval, but she doesn't say anything else. Instead, he's offered a shrug, as Ness turns her gaze away to stare out toward the water. "Will do." That disappointment in him is all but radiating off of her. "Maybe you should try dropping it off the clock tower." And that's the only recommendation he'll get before she decides to wander off in the opposite direction with no other form of farewell.
"Because I just spent hours cleaning up vomit." And they can totally make him muck the stables! But something she says at the end reaches Sylvari's ears before he's too far away. "Clock tower….hm." And it's on that thoughtful note that he is finally out of earshot. WHEELS ARE TURNING.