Tilarekna - Monday, November 27, 2000, 6:25 PM
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Night or day, Klah can always be found warming on the High Reaches
 Hearth...

Living Caverns
The rough-hewn majesty of this cavern far outpaces any delight in the
 multitudes of curves that form its enclosure. The glabrous grey granite is
 shot through with translucent obsidian, lending subtly-veined sparkle to
 the walls and the foot-trodden smoothness of the floor that shows
 centuries-old placements of the scarred trestle tables; carven hollows
 give homes for the glow baskets and the coat-pegs that line the walls. No
 mosaics, no painting, no tiles: just a few well-done tapestries mark the
 pathway that lead to the kitchen to the north and the inner caverns to the
 west, and frame the nighthearth's stew and snacks, while a heavier strip
 of oiled canvas shields the unwary from the wind in the bowl.
Tucked into a glowlit niche are Donnan, Searcher, Quenn, Tiramisu, Gyo,
 Heaven, Hunter, Kelpie, Aftiel, Nyumnyum, Ebb, Mamoru, Rude, Freak, Truro,
 Boingy, Tork, Spoingy, Boink, Endel, Spuds, Leviathan, Ashleigh, Lava,
 Sociopathe, Heero, BronzeMaleFirelizard, Archimedes, Pyre, Rhiannon,
 Vincent, Kinky, Celta, Poldhu, Valor, Vsevolod, Fish, Ozu-Zarkh, and
 Auroriel.
You see Old Auntie sit-by-the-fire, OOC NOTICE (look sign), Boots, Hobbes,
 Nimbus, Generic Sign-Up Sheet, Kageri, and Gigi here.
Obvious exits:
Bowl     Kitchens     Inner Caverns     Crafting Area

Mosiah casually saunters in from the Central Bowl.

Mosiah trundles on into the room, a heavy burlap sack draped over one
 shoulder and with most of the weight placed upon his back. Both hands grip
 at the edge of the sack as he cants forward to keep his balance. Step
 after agonizing step, he makes it to the edge of a table and with an *Oif*
 drops the thing upon it.

Tilarekna blinks as the burlap BANGS its weight down on the table, and the
 striped candie straightens instantly, attention snapped from her repairs
 on her lap and in the huge basket beside her tto view Mosiah. "What HAVE
 you got in there? Rocks?" she wonders curiously, a grin taking shape upon
 her lips.

Sasha arrives from deeper in the Weyr.
Sasha exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.
Sasha strides confidently in from the Central Bowl.

Mosiah reaches a hand up to push back a stray wisp of dark hair, smearing
 dirt along his forehead. A foot snakes out, hooks around the leg of a
 chair, and pulls the thing out. With a *thump*, the boy drops into it,
 half-lidded eyes glancing to the fellow candidate, "Could be? I'm thinking
 its just a bag of ruddy firestone, when they say its tubers.... Riders, go
 figure."

Sasha bounces through the entrance to the bowl obviously in a scarily good
 mood. Seeing the others, she grins. " Been lugging firestone huh? Or
 tubers? never mind...it doesn't matter...what matters is that you've been
 practising...and I am in the mood to go and lug some stone....anyone want
 to come Cairn building with me?" she adds in a loud whisper.

Tubers? Poor soul, that's a heavy chore to do. But, isn't he a strong
 strapping lad? He'll manage. That last thought is accompanied by a nod,
 before Sasha is grinned at. "Done one," is the reply, and amber eyes shoot
 briefly in the direction of the kitchen, before she refolds her legs and
 Tilarekna hmms at the shirt on her lap. And the rather large tear across
 it.

Sasha silently  grins and serruptitiously wanders to the kitchen for a
 cookie top up!

Mosiah just sat down. With legs and arms akimbo, he just stares at Sasha as
 if she is some kind of freak of nature. "But... But I..." *wimper*
 Green-irised eyes dart from the bag he just lugged to Sasha, "Would tubers
 do?" Unless, naturally, it is the firestone he suspects.

A faint chuckle emerges from Reka, who shakes her head at Mosiah. "Just do
 your chores, young'un," is her response, while she stares at her needle
 and threads it with care. Sasha's departure is noted before dark head is
 bowed and she starts to ponder fixing the shirt.

Sasha winks at Reka as she skips over to the hearth and puts down the plate
 of cookies she has been carrying. taking two or three for herself she
 slips into a chair and is about to put her feet up underneath her as usual
 when she realises what she is wearing. "Darn...I hate dresses!" she
 mutters under her breath, and instead primly lets her legs fall neatly to
 one side. Then she demolishes the cookies one by one....she was so
 ravenous!

Mosiah grumps further, "I've done more chores and grunt-work than a
 burdenbeast... and I've the callouses to prove it." He does just that,
 lifting up grubby hands. "I'm a healer... I'm not supposed to have
 callouses here." He then turns his palms to consider them hisself, picking
 at a dry bit of skin with his fingers. Oh, the humanity. Continuing to
 grump, "I mean to have a long discussion with the Weyrleader about this.
 Long overdue, as well." Sasha is eyed. Well, maybe it is more the cookies
 that she just brought in. Eyebrows lift in hopefullness, silent pleading
 apparent.

Sasha literally gobbles down the last of her cookies, wiping the crumbs
 from her mouth in a manner which probably isn't very ladylike....suddenly
 her eyes fall on Mosiah....what /is/ he staring at? "What?" she demands in
 almost a statement rather than a question. 

Tilarekna stares at her friend for a long moment beforre she shakes her
 head and carefully pushes the needle through the fabric. "Enjoying the
 food?" she deadpands, before winking at Mosiah. And a snort of laughter is
 admitted. "You, my boy, are no longer a healer. Not while you wear the
 white knot." Amber eyes glow faintly with her amusement. These young ones
 today..  "You are a Candidate due to Stand, and as far as the Weyr is
 concerned we've no right to complain about a little drudgery when we've
 the chance to Stand on the Sands." Yup, Weyrbred be she and she shall
 spout the true word! Kairo snorts at the boy.

Arianne arrives from deeper in the Weyr.
Arianne exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

Mosiah licks his lips with his tongue, making eyes at Sasha, glancing from
 the plate of cookies and back to try to capture her own gaze. Come on.
 Take a hint, will ya? Tilarekna is eyed askance as he prepares to pout,
 "Am so. I'm still a Healer." These is be his dying words, you can count on
 that. "I said I'd stand on the sands, and I'll stand. Gave my word. 
 I might have been a little addled at the time it was spoken, but I have
 it nonetheless. Doesn't mean I have to like it." And as a muttered aside,
 "Still going to talk to the Weyrleader about it."

Sasha is already more than a little self conscious about the dress she is
 wearing, being the kind of girl who's legs have never seen the light of
 day, hidden as they usually are in trousers. So now that this boy is just
 /staring/ at her, she jumps to the wrong conclusion immediately and with a
 defensive snort. "Don't you have anything better to be doing than leering
 at people ? I thought Oren was bad enough but I think they are all at
 it!!" she asides to Reka, folding her arms carefully across her chest.

Tilarekna pffts. As if the guy'd get the chance. "Until this is over, you
 are temporarily no longer a Healer. Just as Korsair's no longer a Senior
 Herdercraft Apprentice, and Pia," she makes a slight face but doesn't stop
 speaking, "Is no longer Vinter or Holder's Grandaughter. We're all here on
 equal footing, so we are. We wear the white." Blinking, she notes the
 dress, then the staring, then.. "Oh, shards, boys are all the same," she
 mutters in annoyance, and returns to her repairs. "Dunderheaded blockheads
 all." What a great generalisation of the males of the species, eh?  

Mosiah blinks and flushes furiously at being compared to Oren. A protest is
 not far from his lips. "Leering? You think I'm 'leering' at you?" Hands
 instantly brush down the front of his shirt, causing grubby smudges of
 dirt to stripe it. "Not at all. I mean, why would I want to look at you
 like that..." Digging a hole, making it deeper. Hands instantly lift,
 "Thats not what I ment either. You are a very nice looking young woman and
 I'm sure all kinds of men like to look at you and enjoy your-" He cuts off
 immediatly, not at all liking the way his ramblings are going. Voice
 drops, "I was just hoping you would offer me a cookie there."

Tilarekna's annoyance with 'Boys' is interrupted by a sudden surge of
 amused laughter at the rambling Moe. Poor lad he's no idea how possibly
 bad he's managed to clog his mouth with his foot. "I think you should quit
 while you're ahead," she shakes her head at him, shoulders shaking
 slightly with laughter.

Kinecha slides slowly and silently in from the Central Bowl.

Sasha's eyes widen in horror. "You..you wanted a cookie?" A flush comes to
 her cheeks immediately echoing the brilliant red stripes that adorn her
 dress. "Oh...oh I'm sorry...I didn't realise...I mean erm...Oh heck!" she
 crumples with embarrassment, and then realising what he has said, she
 becomes indignant. "all sorts of men enjoy my /what/???? Answer
 carefully!!!!" She covers her embarrassment by standing up abruptly and
 awkwardly and scuttling to the hearth. Dumping some cookies on a plate she
 strides over and shoves them at him, part nervously apologetic, part
 furious. "I'm waiting!"

Kinecha stops just inside the entrance hearing Sasha words. What was going
 on here?

Mosiah breifly considers running for it. She looks kind of small. He could
 easily loose her in a dash across the bowl. Maybe... Maybe not. Adam's
 apple throbs with a gulp as he looks up to her. Fingers pull at the hem of
 his tunic, something he seems to be doing a lot more of recently. With a
 breath, he manages to steel himself. Flush slowly fades, but the hints are
 still there. His eyes drop to the plate of cookies, "Well, you know, you
 really shouldn't pay any attention to the ramblings of a mad-man. Clearly
 deranged." A thumb jerks at this chest, "That would be me." Another gulp,
 this time turning his head to lock gaze with her, "I'm sure the rest of my
 thread of thought was going along the lines of enjoying your unsurpassed
 beauty... how melodiuos your voice is that it makes the croons of a
 Harper-sung ballad pale in comparison... that... well... that."
 *Blink-blink* Here comes his most innocent smile, complete with a flash of
 dimples. 

Far from putting the diminutive girl at ease, his words have only served to
 increase her horrified embarrassment. No adept flirt Sasha...quite the
 opposite. More likely to volunteer to armwrestle a guy than kiss him.
 "You'd have to be mad to think that about me....either that or a seriously
 brave man!" she eyes him with threatening suspicion.

Tilarekna muffles her laughter by ducking her head, and giggling silently
 into the fabric she's SUPPOSED to be repairing. Oh, THIS is funny... Poor
 Mosiah, he's really digging himself in deeper. But, at least he's not gone
 too overboard. Finally, looking up and wiping her eyes, Reka throws 
 Kinecha a wave and a smile, before reaching for a drink to calm herself. 

Grinning slightly Kinecha wanders over to get a glass of redfruit juice. A
 couple of sweetrolls in hand she finds a seat near the others.

Sasha darts a glance at Kinecha and flashes her a quick smile.

Mosiah is rather impressed by the dribble coming from his mouth. He even
 goes so far as to sit up straighter and actually venture out to take up
 one of the offered cookies. Although, at Sasha's reponse, he seems to grow
 a tad more uncomfortable. A couple of throat clearings before he works up
 the courage, yet again, "Well, you see. I'm just stating what is plain to
 me." As he continues, he voice grows more authortative. A unsure mouth
 seems to have morphed into some sort of a beam at her during this time.
 "Then again, I've been called mad more then once since I've been here."
 Wait. Oh shards... That doesn't sound right at all *cringe*

Sasha raises a cynical eyebrow and glares at him "I can do without
 sarcasm." She waves to Reka and Kinecha and grabbing a handful more
 cookies she saunters out to the barracks.
Sasha *snugs everyone and has to leave...Sorry!

Tilarekna waves a handful of fabric in goodbye, before sighing and
 relaxing.. But Faranth! That was funny.. Sewing is restarted and repairs
 are concentrated on.

Sasha steps into the shadows that lead back into the Weyr.

Mosiah glances aver Sasha, eyes following her progress out of the room. In
 the meantime, he takes a large bit of his sweetner-covered cookie.
 *chew-chew-chew* With that, he moves to stand, glancing to Tilarekna,
 "Well, I most thoroughly bungled that one, didn't I?" Not waiting for any
 kinds of comments, the last of his cookie is shoved into him mouth.
 Hefting up the tuber-filled bag with a heaty grunt, he makes his way to
 the kitchens, bending under the weight.

Mosiah goes home.

Elijah arrives from deeper in the Weyr.
You notice Elijah looking at you.

Elijah
Small grey eyes glitter with mischief and laughter as a thin mouth parts in
 a wide smile. Dark black hair rarely goes where it is supposed to and only
 adds to the boy's disheveled appearance. Naturally dark tanned skin is
 marked with bruises and scrapes, with the occasional scar, denoting the
 kidlet as a clumsy one. Sticky fingers often hold a sweet morsel or a bit
 to eat, despite the kidlet's short thin stature. The little kidlet is a
 picture of innocence and youth.
The boy is wearing long brown pants and a biege tunic that almost reaches
 his knees. The clothes are a bit baggy and slightly worn as if they are
 hand-me-down's from an older sibling or friend. When he must wear shoes
 the boy will don brown weyrhide boots, but most times he goes barefoot.
Elijah wears the knot of a High Reaches Weyrbrat.
He is awake and looks alert.
Elijah is 8 Turns, 1 month, and 9 days old.

Elijah looks at the Candidate knot wrapped around the woman's throat and
 smiles sweetle, a picture of innocence.

Tilarekna looks up from her repairs, having completed the stitching, to
 find herself being grinned at very cutely. Hmm.. Weyrbrat, eh? Kin! Is she
 not Ex-Ista Weyrbrat? "'Lo," she smiles at him, resting heer hands on heer
 sewing on her lap.

Elijah continues grinning as he trudges closer and hoists himself into a
 seat. "'ello!" he greets as dirty fingers reach for a plate of meatrolls
 that were left on the table.

Tilarekna gives the child a nod, before reaching for a cookie from her
 plate. Setting aside her chore work, she takes a bit, crunching it noisily
 as she watches the kidbit. "You live here, huh?"

Elijah stuffs a greasy meatroll in his mouth, at least being polite enough
 to swallow before stating his reply, which is quite polite for him. "Yup!
 I'm a Weyrbrat!" He says this with much pride and satisfaction. Looking
 down at his greasy fingers, he falters, trying to find something to wipe
 them off with. Giving up he cleans them off with his trousers, which are
 dirty enough as is.

Tilarekna would chuckle at the Pride(tm) in the voice, but that's against
 the Code. Of course, she's not been a 'brat in turns so there may have
 been changes since.. Nodding, she then glances about the caverns. "This a
 lovely Weyr you have here. Almost as nice as the one I grew up in." Well,
 Reaches IS nice. But.. She just thinks Ista is better. Nyah. 

Elijah looks up at the Candidate. "What Weyr were /you/ a Brat in?" He
 inquires, curiously still rubbing greasy fingers on his pants. He looks
 down at the now-greasy trousers. Oh, well. Can't totally solve the
 problem. Besides it adds to his mischevious Weyrbrat appearance.

Mikaeyla arrives from deeper in the Weyr.
Mikaeyla exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

Indeed it does. She'd offer some fabric, but.. well.. can't have that now
 can we? "I'm an ex-Istan Weyrbrat," is the proud, yet cheerful response to
 the question, and Tilarekna gives another nod. "My da's B'oat, blue
 Shippith's rider at Ista Weyr."

Mikaeyla walks in from the Central Bowl.
Mikaeyla exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

Elijah grins, tilting his head and watching the lady. "I've never been to
 Ista Weyr. My parents thought 'bout making me a Brat there, tho, 'stead of
 here. But they decided on this place. It's fun!"His bright eyes widen.
 "Your da' is a dragonrider!" He oohs, pondering this. Of course he has
 been around several riders but it still excites him. "And you wanna be one
 to? Hope ya make it!"

Tilarekna beams at him, although she gives her head a slight shake. "I
 _hope_ I might get picked. But I've done this before, so.." She gives a
 shrug, before latching onto else parts of what the boy has said. "Really?
 Well, if you ever come visit Ista, I'm sure you'll be very welcome." she
 pauses, before offeering a cookie. "They're not bad. Good thing I don't
 get kitchen duty, or they'd be roasty toasty."

Elijah giggles at her comment and takes the offered cookie. "Thanks!" He
 bites into it. Yummy! "I wanna visit Ista sometimes. I'd be neat!"He
 finishes off half of the cookie before speaking again. "Good luck with the
 dragons!"

Tilarekna gives a wink. "Thanks. Luck I can always use, what ever the
 situation," a faint giggle escapess her lips, and hand is extended.
 "Tilarekna," a nod indicates thats her name. Head tilts slightly to one
 side. "What's yours?"

Amat arrives from deeper in the Weyr.
Amat exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

Elijah grins, shaking her hand with his grimy one. "I'm Elijah, but my
 frend's call me Eli. An' you can too!"

Elijah *awws. Gotta go! *pouts* Hope to see you around. Thanks for the RP!

Elijah goes home.

			=~=~=~=~=~=~=~ End Log ~=~=~=~=~=~=~=