====September 19, 2013
====Hannah, Kultir, Sytin
====A cheerful morning in the Nighthearth, complete with chatter, muffins and Yulena's famous klah.

Who Hannah, Kultir, Sytin
What A cheerful morning in the Nighthearth, complete with chatter, muffins and Yulena's famous klah.
When There is 1 turn 2 months and 9 days until the 12th pass.
Where Nighthearth, Southern Weyr

hannah_default.jpg Kultir


nighthearth.jpg

Nighthearth
A comfortable nook, this natural extension of the living room is cozily attired with overstuffed chairs and a couple of well-worn loveseats. All have been covered in various shades of green, giving the very incongruous appeal of a miniature forest hidden away inside… a grove of man-made proportion. Fish stews and spicy white-wherry chili are often kept hot on the minor hearths east and west of the main, for those whose hours defy when meals are kept. Ornate, the largest hearth towers high, rich with carving and utilitarian in fashion: it holds court by providing the weyr with rich klah, the air thick with the scent of cinnamon wafting.
On the perch is Ballygeary.
You see Veritas here.
Kultir is here.
Obvious exits:
Living Caverns Stairs


-- On Pern --
It is midmorning
It is 10:29 AM where you are.
There is 1 turn 2 months and 9 days until the 12th pass.
It is Spring and 76 degrees. It is a bright, sunny day.




Kultir slumps down into a chair in this quiet corner of the somewhat chaotic caverns after finishing an early lunch after his morning chores. He cradles a mug of still steaming klah as he stares into space, totally oblivious to the presence of others. That being the case, his expression is not guarded like he normally is. This morning it's not entirely sullen but more determined than he's been the past seven days or so.

Lo, the sound of the morning rush! Packing excitement and happiness as the weyr's denizens find their much needed sustenance at the grace of the weyr, yet as the morning slips by, the rush calms and thus Hannah finds herself making her way into the Nighthearth with a stack of hides, a mug of klah, and a blanket. The heat of the sands forfeited for her own fast breaking, for there's even a little basket with muffins. Nora would be proud. "Morning," cheerily given to the Candidate when she walks so-spritely by.

Kultir mumbles a distracted , "Morning." in automatic response to the greeting that he hears and assumes is directed at him. He doesn't, however, look round and see who it is he's responding to so … the goldrider doesn't get the salute he'd normally give. He sips his klah, eyes going unfocused once more as he's obviously having a bit of an arguement with himself if the expressions on his face are anything to go by.

Unconcerned with saluting — Hannah's never really forced that particular habit as of yet — the goldrider settles in, cheery little, "Ah-hah!" given when the hides nearly fall. Alas! She catches them with the barest shade of a breath before true calamity occurred. Finally, klah mug is placed, muffin basket set down, and the junior is all settled and ready to go. Pale brows raise, slanting a curious look to the thoughtful Candidate. "Muffin?" It's not dinner, but those muffins are warm and inviting. "Quartermark for your thoughts, Candidate." Seems she's channeling a little bit of Nika with an open invitation to brightness.

Kultir blinks and jerks his head slightly when he's suddenly spoken to and turns his head to the speaker. *GLUP* A goldrider sits there looking at him … one he'd not even noticed there. "Umm … my apologies, Weyrwoman." he stammers, sitting up a bit straighter and thinking he should probably stand and salute and … well, whatever else she tells him to. "I didn't realize you were here, ma'am." One thing that has been drilled into him recently is that one is always respectful to those who rider gold. He blinks from her face to the basket of muffins and hesitantly reaches for one.

Klah, oh klah. Yulena's praises are mentally sung when Hannah takes the longest sip of the concoction the Candidate-cook has come up with. Blinking big, big green eyes. "Apologies for what?" Genuinely at a loss, those pale brows raise even higher, though she wiggles her butt to get settled in again. If only ye-old harper, Tristram, were here to be playing a harp. Or even Cerise, the entertainer's skill at providing music renowned. The tiny goldrider fairly beams when he takes a muffin. "Delicious, aren't they? I believe they are redfruit and cinnamon muffins. Delicious." Kultir and Hannah sit around the Nighthearth, the latter with hides and a blanket.

Kultir carefully pulls small bites off the muffin and nods. "Aye, they are." he says softly, his expression changing from unguarded to guarded once more as it always is around other people. "I didn't mean to intrude on … your work." A wave toward her stack of hides is given. "I was just looking for a place to … think before I have to head out for my afternoon duties." He's taken to calling the chores they are given duties, just so that he doesn't get into a poor mindset from the beginning.

"It's a public space!" Hannah cheerily waves a hand, the candidate's guarded look not dimming her excitement for the day. "This isn't work, anyway. This is what's gonna get me in trouble." Lendai loves to ground people, especially her juniors: Hannah and Bailey labor beneath the weight of such decree still. "But I've a mind to find the mystery to a problem." Even though, she's made a promise to Th'seus, but hey, what the bronzerider doesn't know won't hurt him, right? Or maybe he'll figure it out! Or maybe his sister, Aife, will figure it out. Either way, the goldrider's bright disposition doesn't dim a wit: not even Dimitri could break her this morning. A secretive smile curves her lips, channeling a little bit of Bailey here. "It's a good place to think," the cheery junior says with a nod. Even K'ane would agree!

Kultir smiles slightly as he settles back into the chair once more, trying to relax in the presence of the goldrider. He glances at the hides and frowns slightly. "What kind of problem?" he asks, curiously. He's not sure what kind of problems a rider would have. He glances around and nods slightly. "I suppose it is. Usually don't have time t' sit around any more …"

If there is one thing that all growing boys are good at it's following their nose, and Sytin is no exception to this rule. In the aftermath of his lunchtime consumption the urge for sweets is upon the boy and he ferrets out the scent of more delicious redfruit muffins, finding his way over to the Nighthearth like a canine to its prey. He helps himself to one and takes a bit before realizing the Weyrwoman is sitting right there. Oops. He offers her a smile, trying to keep the crumbs in and hastily swallows. "Afternoon, Weyrwoman," he offers, setting his work down on the table, which looks like a book, some writing hides and charcoal. Kultir gets another smile, less nervous but the Smith takes a seat regardless of his bad encounters with other goldriders. His last encounter with Hannah didn't end in disaster, so why not risk another? The mention of a mystery piques his interest however. "Oooh, maybe I can help." Trust a boy to volunteer for anything that might involve high speed chases and crawling through caves!

"Oh, nothing really, just a curiosity. See, Jedi, Cerise, Th'seus and I found a lovely ship," Hannah's recounting is quite a bit different than what really happened. "Anyway, I've a mind to find another ship. Maybe get Aaron to commission me some," is that a shifty-eyed glance down to her lap? "— discovery implements. Man, Yulena's klah is just amazing, don't you think? Those muffins were recommended by Nora herself. Say, don't suppose you want another?" Hannah nudges the basket towards the Candidate. "I love muffins, but sandwiches are my favorite food, I think." How did she wander off the topic of her great mystery? Who knows! "Q'fex and Br'er make the best sandwiches." Does she cast a sly look that somehow includes the Candidate? "V'dean would love to make sandwiches as well as Q'fex does." Woe. Q'fex's peanut butter and jellies will be forever out of her grasp. "Oh, I heard Mailli might have also stumbled upon a ship, although that's rumor and rumor can't always be trusted. For I heard that K'ane fathered even more babies. I've heard the count is up to ten." She pauses, then adds, "Oh and that Renalde actually had some girl in his rooms, but that surely can't be true, neh?" Oh but then Sytin's here! "Good morning! Oh, boyo, I've got my mystery well in hand," even though she promised, "But! I just bet Ja'kai will harness that energy." Then suddenly, she's rubbing at her eye. Damn eyelash!

Kultir offers a nod of greeting to Sytin when he plops himself down and snags a muffin before realizing that the weyrwoman was right there. He snickers softly at the younger boy when he realizes what he's done but soon turns his attention to Hannah. "A ship? Just a ship? Or was it a ship wreck?" he asks, curiosity piqued somewhat. He wouldn't mind seeing a shipwreck … maybe searching through it to see what he could find. He's still young enough to have a bit of enthusiasm for those things, just like Sytin, apparently. He finishes off the muffin he'd accepted from Hannah and sips his klah , trying to draw out the time he can sit and … not think, right now.

The redfruit spice muffin is rapidly vanishing as the boy listens to the Weyrwoman's exciting tale of mystery and intrigue and ships. Sytin's eyes are wide with excitement — or maybe even a touch of trepidation — as he listens, quietly for once. "Woah, were they haunted?" All the tales of the supernatural must have gotten 'round to him. He opens his book up to something that looks like math — maybe algebra? — and shoves the rest of the muffin in his mouth, cheeks bulging as he tries to chew it up prior to swallowing. He flips a few pages back and then forwards to find his place and then sets a rock on the page to hold his place. All this talk of klah has made him thirsty and so he seeks out a clean mug and pours a cup, puffing the surface between pursed lips — crumbs escaping — before taking a drink as he walks back over to the chair and settles down, mouth finally free. "Definitely the best klah ever!" He can definitely get behind food! "Bubblies are my favorite dessert. I like sandwiches for lunch, because they can go places." This is Important.

"A ship," Hannah's as tightlipped with her mystery as she is with Lendai's secrets. "Jedi and Cerise were there. And Th'seus, but I don't suggest you mention it to him. He's a little bit touchy about… ships." Is that the look of innocence that sweeps pretty features? Why, yes, yes it is. "A lovely ship with lovely secrets, is what it was." Serenity casts to husky tones, pale lashes lowering to hide the mystery of expression. If it's distraction Kultir wants, the little goldrider is happy to keep prattling on. "Jedi and Cerise, however, have the touch of adventure. It's having a touch of fire in the blood, it is." However, something seems to draw the goldrider's attention to the hearth's entrance. "I'll be, I think Sadaiya and Tuli might be visiting," or maybe she's just seeing things. Either way, she's now struggling to her feet. "If you boyos ever want to be reminded of what a good female brownrider can do, all you've got to do is look to Igen's Teyaschianniarina. Guard, former Weyrsecond, female. She's who you all should aspire to." As she gathers up her things, to boy Candidates, she offers a bright: "You should all make sure to check out weyrlings C'ren, Safra and Ez'iah from Talicanitath's clutch. They'll have a lot to tell you about the rigors of Weyrlinghood!" Does she pause, giving both boys a look: "And maybe stay away from whatever is in the water here that makes all the men giants. H'ris, Th'seus, Aaron… why, any taller and we'll be carving the ceilings higher. I just bet that Donner boyo will out grow them all!" Right? Right! "No, no, no. No hauntings. This was a safe ship." Quick to assure Sytin! With an indulgent pat to the child's head - if he doesn't squirm out of the way, it's not like Hannah is forcing it! - she saunters out. "Good luck with your chores and candidacies, boyos." With a fun little wave the delicately tiny goldrider is totally on her way out. Possibly running after running her mouth too much.

Kultir chuckles softly at Sytin and peers at the book he's working on and nods slightly. He nods politely to the goldrider as she suddenly decides to leave and shrugs. He's still trying to wrap his head around that … chattering he barely understood since it bounced around so much. He settles back into his chair again and sighs as he sips his klah and watches Sytin work on his … whatever.

If Sytin had any delusions about asking the bronzerider about this mysterious ship that hope is rapidly dashed by Hannah as she warns away from such a thing. He looks momentarily crestfallen but the conversation carries him elsewhere, like a river winding around all the bends. "Life's a pretty big adventure," the former Apprentice agrees with the Weyrwoman in honesty and not out of some sense of duty. As she rises out of her chair he follows her with her amber gaze, deciding that this one of his favorite. Not at all mean like certain other goldriders. The brownrider's name draws no flash of recognition but is still filed away — as best one can file away a name like Teyaschianniarina — and the mention of C'ren and Safra brings first a sour then brighter expression. "Safra and I Impressed some blue 'lizzen out of the same clutch!" As if this were something to be proud of, and to the boy it probably is. He giggles at the warning away from the Giant Growth water, and looks just a tad disappointed that the ship wasn't haunted. The pat lands squarely on his head, mushing down his spiky black hair and causing it to point in all sorts of interesting directions and he turns about to watch her leave with a grin. Definitely his favorite. He watches her a moment more as she disappears into the crowds and then turns about to plop solidly in his chair again. "Arithmetic," he explains to Kultir, tapping the book. "Harper's said I should be studying this, since I'm a Candidate. Guess it might be important later?"

Kultir ahhs softly, an indulgent smile curling his lips as the younger boy watches the petite goldrider walk away. He's busy with his klah and thoughts so he's not too interested in watching her walk away, at least not as much as Sytin seems to be. When the other boy mentions what he's looking at Kultir nods. "Oh yeah … I got some o' that too. Finished it at breakfast though." he says, a bit dismissively. "Dunno why they think I need t' do more o' that stuff … me mum was Harper-trained afore she married m' Da … she taught me that stuff when I was younger'n ye are." He still can't get the Harper to understand that and just refuses to believe he can do those calculations in his head.

Sytin sips at his klah and peers at the book. "My Da didn't have much time to teach me, and, well, I'd rather not learn it from my foster-Da." That's all he'll say of that. He scans the pages briefly. "It's all right, but I'd much rather be doing something active. I suppose it helps with creating stuff though, the whole mathematics bit. At least that's what the Harpers said." He has what appears to be a work sheet and makes sure it matches the page he's on. "Harpers want me to show all my work too. How'm I suppose to do that on this tiny scrap of hide?" He sighs, looking forlorn until a small blue — almost purple in some parts, paler in others — flit lands on his head, chirring fondly with its wide eyes and baby features. It's super adorable but also shows some very sleek classic lines, even at his age. "Zhiros!" Sytin giggles. "You're being naughty!" Chirr!

Kultir sniffs at the comment on showing work and shrugs. "I just din't put it down. Just the answer. They don' believe I did m' own work though." he says with a shrug. "I asked 'em if anyone else'd turned theirs in and no one had … so I asked who'd I cheat off then? They din't have nothin' t' say after that." He doesn't think it's anything special that he was able to do his lessons in less than half the time of nearly all the others took, it's just what he's always done. He chuckles at the appearance of the little blue and shakes his head. "How ye gonna manage two o' them flyin' stomachs, eh? And the second'll be a hunnert times bigger too!" While he'd love to have a firelizard, he just doesn't think now would be a good time.

"I can do most of it in my head, but some of it I still have to work out on paper," Sytin admits. "It's tedious." Read: boring. More klah is sipped and a second muffin snagged. "I had a project from Aaron this morning which is why I'm doing this now." He adjusts the book and then peers up at Zhiros who has flipped down on the Smith's head in a spread eagle fashion, earning a fond chuckle. "He was a bit of an accident. I was out jogging with Safra and we stumbled across these guys while they were hatching. Next thing I knew he was in hand and eating my lunch!" He reaches up and strokes the tiny blue's eyeridge with the back of his finger. "Shells, Kultir, you make it sound like I'm guaranteed to Impress. I may have been Searched by the bronzerider who's dragon sired the clutch but even I'm not that naive." Hopeful, yes, naive, not as such.

Kultir laughs softly at Sytin's comments and shrugs. "I know whatcha mean … 'bout as interestin' as washing sheets t' me." he says before he turns his gaze back to the little blue. "Well, ye know how most o' them weyrborn Candidates are goin' on. Figured it mighta rubbed off on ye since ye'r closer in age than I be with 'em. An' ye ain't as pessimistic as me neither." He sighs softly and pushes himself up to his feet. "I gotta get t' my chores … see ye later, Sytin." He manages to give the boy a slight smile, the first in several days.

The former Smith looks a little sheepish. "Yeah, don't remind me. They acted kind of crazy for a bit 'round me." In all sorts of ways. "Who knows, we might both get lucky." And Sytin means that in the most innocent way possible. With dragons. As Kultir rises the boy turns to glance at him, and then nods while he swallows. "Okay, Kultir. I'll see you later tonight. Don't work too hard!" It's a well intended farewell but as all the Candidates know there's bound to be more chores than energy to go around. Just the nature of the beast. The smile is returned warmly before the sandy-haired man wanders off and the Candidate buries himself in his arithmetic, whiling away the afternoon in the pursuit of knowledge…
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