==== September 9, 2013

==== Sytin, Yulena

==== Getting a well deserved break from Smithing, Sytin joins Yulena for some… interesting revelations.

Who Sytin, Yulena
What Getting a well deserved break from Smithing, Sytin joins Yulena for some… interesting revelations.
When September 9, 2013
Where Southern Weyr - Living Caverns

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Living Caverns
Grand and spacious, the cavern curves high aloft in naturally-vaulted ceiling that soothes any sense of claustrophiba. Rich woods line the cavern floor, varnished and stained a rich mahogany, while round tables scatter about candlelit and intimate. The largest table lies southerly next the sideboard, long trestles that seem oriented to providing for the weyr's youngest. The rich blue of Azov can be seen from a distance in good weather, when the heavy stone doors covering the entrance are allowed to stand open.


It is the morning, just after most of the breakfast rush has subsided, and Yulena, seated somewhere close to the fire, is taking a moment to surround herself with a second helping of fruity delicious breakfast and a supersized mug of klah… and sheafs and sheafs of hides, scanning down them and making little marks, her expression changing from bemused to annoyance to resignation and back again. The food goes frequently untouched, but the klah is making ring tracks on the table from its frequent use. Occasionally, there's an annoyed 'harrumph' sound.

Sytin is a bit late today, having been up since some Faranth-awful hour performing his duties as a Smith Craft Apprentice. His hair is tousled into somewhere between "bed-head" and "merely mussed", and his amber eyes are mostly alert. His stomach growls and the lad make his way over to the serving table, getting himself a heaping helping of porridge along with some sliced porcine and scrambled eggs. Klah cup is claimed and the lad looks for a place to sit. Spying Yulena he heads over, eager to meet a new face. "Hi," he greets as he sets his dishware down. "I'm Sytin." Hand is offered, nice and friendly.

Yulena was totally into her notations, muttering things about 'oats' and 'wherry' and 'stomachs', a fascinated but horrified look on her face. Yes, Yulena will attempt to make… haggis. But in the midst of her mutterings, she failed to notice, until failure is no longer an option, the young man standing in front of her. Huh. "Hi," she replies, shortly but her tone isn't hostile. "I'm Yulena. The cook." See the cooking things. "Sit, eat, and tell me what you think of the klah." She's not hostile, just… abrupt.

Sytin does indeed sit, starting to dig into his own oats, though the cook's mutterings have piqued his curiosity. Swallowing the porridge he chases it with klah, slurping at his mug. "It's good!" he reassures her, setting the cup down and tackling his meat and eggs. "What're you working on?" he asks around a mouthful of porcine, peering over at her papers with the inquisitiveness of youth. Nosh, chomp, swallow.

Yulena peers hard at Sytin a little, "Yes, it's good but is it strong? Is it comforting, or challenging? Does it make you want to sit back and relax, or does it dare you to try new things and experiences?" The sound of noshing and chomping drains the feverish crease in Yulena's brow, "Or does it just taste really good?" Someone forgot her dried frog pills this morning. "Oh this? Just some new recipe ideas." Said in a sour tone, accompanied by a sour look, "Not that it'll get made anytime soon. So. What do you do here, Sytin?" A huge quaff of klah is followed by the disappointed glare at Yulena's mug, mocking her with its emptiness.

Sytin takes another sip of his klah, this time taking a moment to really savor it so he can give her a proper answer. Notes of spice sink into his taste buds, and he rolls it around for several more moments before swallowing. "Definitely strong, much better than what they served up at Nerat," he assures her. "Very invigorating." He decides finally. "I might even be inspired to look forward to pumping the bellows for the rest of the day." He chuckles and gestures to his red and white knot. "Apprentice Smith, so…." He trails off with a chuckle and a shrug. "And what kind of recipes?" He's a bit curious. "The food here is loads better too." Or maybe it's just new.

Yulena nods, a small curl to her lips, "Excellent." That's one satisfied cook, but the introduction of a knot leads Yulena to look … devious, which doesn't suit her face at all, "Apprentice Smith, huh? You work for Aaron?" Chin tapping time. Aaron'd probably get pretty annoyed if she filched his new apprentice. "Well, if you ever think you want to try a turn in the kitchen, you just let me know. It doesn't even have to be permanent. We could use a good tongue like yours." But there's no harm in trying, right? "You're from Nerat too, huh? I grew up near Farmerhall. And yes, the food is much better here," and Yulena's totally going to take some credit for that, "I'm trying to create some new dishes to explore what grows here in the Spring. D'you have any favourites so far?" Other than the klah, that is.

"Yeah, I work for Aaron," Sytin concurs. Or is that an admission? It's hard to tell, really. He shovels some more of those scrambled eggs into his mouth, positively ravenous. "Mmmm. These eggs are delicious!" It comes out a little mangled, of course, but it's a compliment none-the-less. He swallows and washes down with more klah, noticing Yulena's empty mug now. He's promptly up and fetching a klah pot, refilling them both with the bouncy gait that only comes in youth. "Oh, the roast wherry last night was so succulent. I seriously could not eat enough of it!" He sets the pot down on the table and resumes his seat.

Clearly, clearly this child is wasted in the Smithing arts - Yulena eyes her mug, now filled, and huhs. "Any time, kid. Any time you want to come over to," the Dark Side, "the kitchens, just let me know. I'll talk with Aaron." The kitchens, after all, have cookies. "Thank you. My staff is very proud of the job it does." The lack of the Head Cook knot doesn't mean Yulena can't call them hers. "So what brings you to Southern? Was it one of the weird ships I've heard tell of?" Oh, sorry, that's a secret? Maybe Yulena's head was too far in the oven when someone was saying so. A large sip of klah, and Yulena finally selects a slice of fruit from in front of her, chomping on half of it, "Were you sent from SmithHall?"

Sytin chomps away at his meal like the growing boy that he is, the contents rapidly vanishing under his hungry watch. "I dunno about weird," he considers. "We did have some bad weather on the boat trip down though." His eyes are round at the memory. Clearly 'some' is an understatement. "My foster-da brings me to Southern." Foster-da is said with a trace amount of distaste. "Much less boring than Nerat, at least. It's… pretty, just dull." He chews on a chunk of porcine as he considers her last question. "I actually signed on to the Smith Craft here. Was born in Telgar though, so maybe it's in m'blood." He decides to revisit the idea of working in the kitchen though. "Do you get to eat while working in the kitchen?" He's hopeful in the way only someone sprouting regularly can be.

Yulena nods with a little hmph, "The weather has been quite…" there's no real word for how Yulena felt about this past winter, "Wet. Moreso than I've ever seen." A little snort as she eyes the porcine being eaten, "Well, you won't find dull around here. Unless you happen to incite the Headman's rants." Do Not Want, according to the cook's headshake, "Otherwise, we've got all the hunting, picking, swimming, and so on a boy could want in life." Ahh, the common 'can I eat what I make, while making it' question makes Yulena smirk, "You get to eat on break. And a bit before the main meal is served, or after, if you like. We've always got a pot of Random Stew going all day." And if a couple of cookies go missing from the plate before the plate gets to the Living Caverns, well, that's the price of delegation. "But while you're cooking? No, that'd be unsanitary." Let's just go ahead and quash a couple of rumours and dreams while we're at it.

Sytin grins, swallowing his mouthful in a hasty gulp and reaching for his klah. "Duly noted," he says after a long drink. "That makes sense." He may seem mildly disappointed, but the kitchen sounds a lot easier than the forge, if the look of cogwheels turning is any indication. "How long have you been a cook down here?" The lad look up at her with a grin, genuinely curious to know more about her. "I just got here about a sevenday ago." There, he's broken the ice now!

Yulena waves a hand offhandedly, "Oh, about half a Turn now, I think? I was here for the first bodies, the first Clutch, the first flight… I was up at Igen before. Coming was entirely worth it, after getting the rest of him down from the flue." Oh look, a new subject, that Yulena gloms onto happily, "You came at the right time. It's about to get very busy, with Dhiammarath having just risen, and the weird ships…" There's nothing creepy about empty ships. Just… possibly disconcerting and weird. "So. Who's your foster father?" There's no indication that Yulena may have noticed distaste about that subject, so she plows on right ahead.

Sytin quirks an eyebrow, eyes widening as two and two make a mental four. "Oh, you mean you pulled a dead body out of the flue?" Eyes grow round as mental imagery kicks in. "Woah." Like, totally. Or something. "I heard that their were going to be Dragon eggs soon. I've never actually seen a hatching. It sounds… exciting!" And clearly intriguing. "Are there lots of dead bodies around here?" The inner sleuth is pricking up his ears even as he is close to polishing his plate. "Oh, Vorick."

"Well, it sort of fell out on its own, really," Yulena acknowledges, "But cleaning up after it was no fun, let me tell you!" Oh she'll tell you ad nauseum alright, but then talk of dragonbabies: "Yes, it's all very exciting," the cook replies, somewhat testily, "Especially when you're trying to clean off the sands later and…" Ooops, that's on the Do Not Discuss list, "Well, you're cleaning Sands and that's terribly exciting." Has Yulena convinced you yet? "And then everyone comes to watch, and eat, and those who don't Impress get to eat… and clean the Sands after…" Yulena's too full of pride to actually deflate so the strange name is met with enthusiasm, "Sorry, who? Is he around very often?"

Sytin has a pretty vivid imagination and is picturing the clean up job just fine in his mind. "Eugh." Features screw up in a grimace. "That sounds… charming." Well, not really, but he's going to go with 'charming' for now. "We're both new, from Nerat. Well, I'm not so sure about him originally but that's where we've been the last few turns." He shrugs. "He's a Harper…. I think." He shrugs. "Vor and I don't spend a lot of time together if we can avoid it."

Yes, and you too can have the excitement of finding bodies and cleaning up after them in charming, majestic Southern Weyr! "It wasn't so bad. After they got rid of the body, that is." A little nod, "Family relations. I can totally get that." A little sigh and Yulena looks down at the pages. "I should get back into the kitchens before supper gets burned. Just let me know if you want to work in the kitchens, anytime. And don't mention to Aaron that I sent you." Gathering her hides, Yulena is making tracks to the over-warm, over-smelly cavern that is the kitchens and disappearing within.

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