The Dragonriders of PernŽ is a trademark, Registered U.S. Patent & Trademark Office, of Anne McCaffrey. This is a recorded session, generated by Harper's Tale MOO in November, 1999, for the benefit of members unable to attend. Logged by Pyrene.
Cleaning the Weyrling Barracks
[Prior to this, Lis and Lylia(?) had dyed D'renn and T'sin's boxer shorts pink. Since they did not own up ICly, all the candidates were punished, with our OOC permission, of course! Scene starts in the Candidate Barracks. A few candidates are around when D'renn enters and asks if they're ready]
Pyrene sits on her cot, working over candidate robe take 3. Then she eyes both D'renn and his stern expression. "Ready for what?" she asks warily.
Tyara is sitting on her cot, sewing on some tunic, but raises her head as - uh oh - D'renn comes in. "Hrm, guess so," comes the reply, tunic pushed aside and legs stretched as the nanny stands up.
"The Punishment," D'renn replies, black eyebrows pulling together as he frowns.
Liseria drowses in and out of alertness as she counts dust motes on the ceiling, happening to count over to D'renn's side of the barracks. Adrenaline does wonders fore the system: Lis is alert and sitting up within a few bleary eyeblinkings. "'M ready too," she adds, soft sigh escaping her lips.
Morlan escapes in from the bustling activity of caverns and Weyr.
Pyrene was afraid of that. Still she can play for time? "I didn't do anything..." she states--unless you count being vastly amused and wishing she'd thought of it. "Besides, didn't you punish me enough before Searching me?" She's teetering rather on the brink of petulance.
Morlan says, "i just joined the weyr."
D'renn turns and glares at the lad who just came in. "Only Candidates allowed in here!" he snaps.
Morlan says, "Annalee told me to come in here."
Morlan says, "sorry to intrude."
Morlan slips back out to the caverns.
D'renn turns back to the candidates, still with the angry look. "Right.... all dressed ready for cleaning? Let's go." Doesn't matter whether they are or not.
"Why do we have to /clean/?! That't for women, and 'sides, I didn't do anyt..." Kolen is rudely cut off by Tyara, who smiles sweetly at D'renn in return. "Go where?"
"All of you," D'renn glowers at Kolen. "And the Weyrling Barracks. Follow me."
Bed sheets bunch and scrunch as Lis works her way out of them, fighting off a particularly nasty sheet. Resolution seeps into her bones, and soon the Candidate-turned-canine is trailing after D'renn all hang-dog looking.
In the Living Caverns...
D'renn picks up two pairs of pink boxers.
D'renn exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.
And so, across the bowl to the...
Weyrling Barracks
The large covered entryways open into two immense U-shaped caverns that stretch back deep into the rock of the cliffside. Glow baskets lining the cavern walls cast a soft light dispelling the shadows and illuminating the home of all High Reaches weyrlings. Stone couches, some smaller for the greens and blues and some, for bronzes and the occasional gold, so large they have to be climbed into, rise up to loom over the walkways of well-packed dirt.
Along the walls nearest the entrances, shelves and pegs sport several sets of leathers and various books and tools needed when teaching and practicing; crates and supplies also take up residence in various nooks and crannies. Toward the back, a large, man-dug pool for use by the dragonets and their lifemates and several large containers kept full of fresh meat serve as conveniences for the busy residents of these barracks.
The barracks are looking rather untidy with the exit of the last group of Weyrlings to live here. Dust competes for space with miscellaneous unpleasant stains. One couch in particular is such a mess that no-one's used it for nearly 2 Turns; its last occupant was bronze Dhavalth.
You see Weyrling Progress Record, Dragon Wing, and two pairs of pink boxers here.
D'renn, Gekoki, Liseria, and Tyara are here.
Obvious exits:
Staff Office Bowl Couches
D'renn leads his trail of Candidates into the barracks, stopping only to pin those pink boxer shorts up by the door - as threatened. A sweep of a green-shirted arm indicates all the cleaning things they could possibly require: "Get started."
Gekoki sighs. How's she ever going to get any work done with such lovely artwork to distract her? She scans over the cleaning utensils, and finally, with the utmost distaste, most of it directed at the messy couches rather than the soapsand, she takes a rag between two fingernails.
Pyrene follows, despite being clad only in her winter dress. Typical bluerider... no consideration for others. Fortunately, although a touch impractical for elbow grease, the dress has put up with nannying and can probably survive this. "D'renn... I didn't..." She pauses suddenly and glares at him. "Oh why do I bother? This is the whole reason you and Thes Searched me, right?" She knew it wasn't the dragons. Sulking, she grabs a mop, sticking her tongue out at Ewyrpin who's made the mistake of being there.
"Pink is for girls!" comes the rather rude comment from Kolen, three of the other Candidates immediately shushing him. Tyara raises the broom in her hand with a threatening look to the boy and he finally shuts up. For now. "I'll just start over here," she groans, walking across the room. No use in cleaning the floor if all the dust from the couches fall onto it again..
D'renn
Dark curls flop into a tanned face, a faint thread of silver twining back from D'renn's left temple. He can only be described as short, wiry rather than stocky; muscles firm as a result of Turns of dragonriding. Blue eyes are framed by tiny laughter lines, another wrinkle furrowing a groove between thick black brows whenever he frowns - which is rarely. Mobile features are far more likely to smile, or laugh as D'renn makes yet another inappropriate joke at someone's expense... though malicious he never is, merely high-spirited and impulsive. The ingrained impetuosity shows too in the quick movements of someone who never sits still, but is constantly in fluid motion.
Lickable raspberry paints D'renn in layer after layer of berry-stained leather: pants a dark, ripe red, padded at buttocks and lower legs for riding and warmth. High black boots encase lower legs, a loose shirt of thick forest-green cotton hanging out over the tight trousers.
No longer quite so new - though still in better condition than his last knot - the loops of a Weyrlingmaster sit on D'renn's shoulder in resplendent shades of Trydanth's blue, High Reaches indigo and black, and a strand of gold to indicate his rank.
He is awake, but has been staring off into space for 3 minutes.
D'renn is 36 Turns, 10 months, and 16 days old.
"Clean it however you want," D'renn answers, disappearing into his office for a moment, and reappearing with a mug of something. Perching on a table, he points to his closed office door. "Don't go in there though."
Gekoki snorts at that last comment from Kolen, but keeps her mouth shut. Boys have too many shortcomings to list suitably on one breath. She gets on her knees and starts scrubbing a corner, by chance the corner furthest from Dhavalth's couch, with her damp rag.
Liseria gulps audibly as she peers around at the barracks, the wide open space causing her head nearly to turn backwards as she takes everything in... including the /mess/. "C'mon," she states, dragging her favorite work-shirker - Ditzee - along as she hunts for some cleaning supplies. Ditzee's handed an unpleasant smelling rag while Lis herself grasps a mop. "Let's go." Ignoring the aghast look she's getting from Dizee's baby-blues, Lis dutifully clomps over to a green-sized couch and begins to scrub.
Tyara sighs and comes to a half in front of one of the larger couches. Does she really have to climb /up/ there?? Ah well.. throwing the broom up first she grabs theedge of the couch, hauling herself up. "Get your hands off me," she hisses to one of the 'helpful' make Candidates who just happens to place his hands on her behind.
Pyrene dunks a mop in soapy water and starts cleaning with as much defiance as possible. "It's not a patch on the nurseries after the winter flu's been round, is it Tya?" she informs everybody with conviction. To prove it she starts on the worst of the stains too. The one that still smells of... well. "Ewyrpin, why don't you start on that couch over there?" she adds to the boy sweetly. Pyrene's a great believer in volunteering, particularly other people.
D'renn is also a great believer in volunteering other people, and proves it. "Robbi, why don't you start over /there/," he directs a particularly truculent Candidate to the lip of the large bathing pool.
Tyara smirks in Pyrene's direction, finally able to push dust off the couch. And there's a /lot/! Could it be the one Chayath used? It would explain her wiggling on the sands, and her need for white cloth.. "Kolen, don't /drink/ that!" she snarls, almost regretting immediately. If he really wants to..
"Ew. This is /beyond/ gross." Firelizard-sized lumps of Faranth-knows what cascade of the the edge of couch as Lis pries them off of the stone. Not to mention the rather pungent smell Turns-old dragon waste gives off. The girl does her best to hold back coughing and gagging fits, but she does gasp like a fingertail out of the water. "/Some/ punishment."
Gekoki looks a little incredulous as Baloader gets in her way--again! That big lout must do it on purpose. Else he would never be in front of her so often. Shoving him aside does no good- rather, trying to shove him aside. She sighs heavily and scrubs around him. It won't be her fault if there's a big spot on the floor.
Pyrene settles into a mopping pattern, glaring at the particularly virulent and persistant parts of the stain. Possibly she's envisioning a certain stern expression being scrubbed off somebody's face. At least she has the satisfaction of seeing Ewyrpin sneezing fitfully on Dhavalth's couch--unable to even /start/ cleaning it.
Tyara sighs as she has to get down on her hands and knees in order to scrub away a dark spot of... something. Broom doesn't do any good here though. "Kolen, give me that rag and that stuff you're /not/ drinking," she orders, wincing at the other even more mysterious looking spots on this couch. Eww.. maybe this dragon ate something bad for lunch?
D'renn drinks from his mug - it probably holds nothing very hot, considering how he gulps it down. Black brows still beetle at the Candidates, and he casts the occasional look towards the boxers pinned by the door.
Gekoki doesn't seem to be taking this seriously. A few scrubs here, a few scrubs there. And it doesn't help that whenever she sees the pink boxers, she breaks down into a giggle fit. And then she sneezes in the dirt and Faranth-knows-what on the floor. Thus proceeding to more giggles.
Pyrene pauses in her mopping to send D'renn a glare--just because--and then giving Gekoki another glare. "What's so funny?" she demands. "Apart from Ewyrpin and D'renn's fashion sense."
"And what's wrong with my fashion sense?" D'renn demands loudly.
Gekoki is in another fit of giggles right now. Not able to talk and all. And good thing too, by the scowls D'renn's directing about. Finally she hauls herself up out of the grunge on the floor and shakes herself.
"Pyreeeene? Is he that bluerider you're always saying bad things about?" Oh yeah, Kolen's exploiting his new rank perfectly well. The boy sends Pyrene an angelic smile while nodding towards D'renn. "I think he's strange! Men don't wear pink. Eww!" He dashes around the barracks, oocasionally waving his rag in the air so it looks like he's doing something.
"That must be Weisth's couch," a voice calls from the edge of Liseria's latest form of torture. "Oh?" the girl asks dryly, wringing her mop of liquid carefully away from the boy who just spoke up. "'Course. J'net kept telling me about how dirty Weisth' couch would get." Though he's all smiles, Lis only sinks into more a grumpy mood. "Oh, wonderful. I guess that means I'll work extra-hard, doesn't it?" Pure sarcasm.
D'renn gives Kolen the benefit of another scowl. "I /don't/ wear pink. Which is why you're all cleaning in here...." Raspberry /isn't/ pink.
"Yer just angry because pink ain't for men and Pyrene hates you," Kolen concludes, looking veeeery smug.
Pyrene pivots around her mop and makes a show of looking D'renn up and down in measured gaze. "Well, D'renn... you're right... it's not /pink/ per se... more /hot/ pink. Very dark, bright and seductive. Exactly what sort of statement are you trying to make with it?" And Kolen gets a vindictive look. Subtlety?
D'renn slides down off his table, very very quiet all of a sudden, and takes Kolen's are. "You see that couch there?" he asks gently, turning the boy in the direction of Dhavalth's ex-mess. "See that one? Well, it's all yours to clean. And if it's not spotless by dinnertime, you can stay here and clean it anyway." Pyrene gets completely ignored - D'renn's trying to make a point. And he knows she hates him anyway.
Gekoki rolls her eyes. Kolen's so stupid. And occassionally she has to let people know of the obvious facts of life. "Kolen, you're so stupid! Otherwise you'd know, er, yeah, what bluerider D'renn said..." She scrubs a little harder, leaving a narrow path of cleanliness behind her.
Kolen looks up at the rider with a stubborn expression. "I dont know how to clean! It's for girls," he repeats, scowling towards his former nannies. "Like them!" Tyara snorts lightly from her couch. "Now Kolen, remember all the times we cleaned after your painting the floor," she calls out in a loud voice, a nice, icy ring to it.
Hate is such a strong word... and can't be applied to people who know what to do with Kolens. Pyrene merely dislikes, is prejudiced against and resents D'renn. And right now she's shrugging and getting back to mopping, a smirk on her features.
"Cleaning's easy." D'renn answers Kolen, scowling once again. "So set to! Now!" He's in a truly fearsome mood, and Kolen's about to feel more than just a harsh squeeze of his arm if he carries on. "NOW,
Kolen!"
Liseria hops off the so-called couch of Weisth, - she's done about all she can with the mop, or at least all she thinks she can get away with - meandering towards a bigger, blue-ish stone slab near Gekoki. "'Lo Geko," the girl mutters to her fellow-Candidate, slopping her mop on the stained side of /this/ couch. Head is turned slightly by Kolen's comments, but the girl soon learns to look busy and listen in a the same time.
Tiri heads in under the barracks' immense archway.
Tyara snickers to herself as she watches Kolen's face undergo the usual transformation: Anger, near-crying and finally sullen obedience. "Hrm, you might want to actually touch the stone with your rag," she advises, staring at her own task. That dark spot just won't come off, and she can tell that it isn't a color /in/ the stone..
Pyrene finishes her mopping and heads for a couch. One is peered at and a face is made, but she fetches a scrubbing brush and makes a start. "D'renn... how come /we/ have to do this? Couldn't you just bring the latest lot of weyrlings back? It's /their/ mess." She eyes Tiri, impressed that the girl turned up instead of staying wherever she'd hidden herself.
Gekoki rubs up and down the area that Lis has swiped with the mop, getting the stuff that hasn't been swept off by the other tool. With a last glare at Kolen, him and his remarks about girls, she turns and smiles tightly at Lis, "Heylo." Her gaze drifts over Lis's shoulder and to the pink article of clothing on the wall, and a smirk becomes plastered on her face, with a new bout of giggles threatening to follow.
Kolen's left to his own devices, and D'renn returns to his mug and his table-perch, frowning indiscriminately. At least till Tiri comes in: "You're late! Get to work." he commands, pointing out the cleaning equipment available. And Kolen, made to work on the dirtiest couch of all.
D'renn looks at Pyrene. And looks at the boxer shorts pinned to the wall. And looks back. Enough said.
Tiri grumbles as she walks in, /dragging/ her feet across the floor and scowling downwards. She wipes the sour expression off her face to make it blank as she looks at D'renn. However, the sourness does not leave her voice. "/Sorry/, D'renn..." She looks around for a cleaning instrument as she turns her back.
Pyrene sighs over those boxers. Not only does she not think of that prank before somebody else does, but she gets punished for it anyway. Life. Not fair and all that jazz.
Gekoki beckons to Tiri to join her by one of the couches, "Here, take this mop."
[The RP went on, but I had to leave.]
