==== September 17, 2013
==== Dimitri, Kultir, Lysia, Donner, Nika, Nora, Yulena
==== An apprentice douses the Kitchens in flour! Candi-land activity ensues. Slave little minions!

Who Dimitri, Kultir, Lysia, Donner, Nika, Nora, Yulena
What Flour Power
When There is 1 turn 2 months and 15 days until the 12th pass.
Where Kitchens, Southern Weyr

dimitri6.jpg kultir2.jpg Lysia2.jpg nika_icon.PNG Nora6.png Yulena


kitchens.jpg

Kitchens
Renowned, the culinary prowress of Southern, and suitable her kitchens to the task. A broad and airy sweep of room, it cannot help the sweat-drenching heat — though hearths are cleverly set within the ground itself to maximize efficiency. Big copper pots gleam along long tables, cooks hustling to and fro to prepare the necessary meals. There is never a candlemark the kitchens are left unstaffed: even in the wee hours of the night, bakers can be seen shaping loaves and mixing biscuits. For those who miss meals, a sideboard brims with leftovers that are easily transformed into portable potables, complete with sweet herbal tea and a large wheel of a soft, white, crumbly cheese.


Somewhere outside, it's a beautiful spring day, but here in the kitchens, it's more like winter. Oh, it's warm enough, with the ovens going and plenty of bodies toiling away to begin the dinner preparations. But there's a fine powder of white everywhere and still hanging lazily in the air. It's apparently just happened, since half the work has stopped for everyone to stare at the young apprentice who just totally dropped a bag of flour, which has exploded all over. Nora was in mid-conversation with one of the head cooks, but now she's staring a bit agape at the mess, yet unaware that she, too, has been dusted. For the most part, everyone just looks at each other, hoping they won't have to help clean it up and the apprentice looks like he rather hopes the floor will open and swallow him whole.

Lysia has an armload of empty and dirty dishes balanced on her hip as she strolls back into the kitchens. “We’re going to need more spicy fish rolls out there. Check the level of the drinks when you take them out please,” this is said to one of the staff as she strolls by to dump the dirty dishes in a bin used for the purpose. She wipes her hands on a clean damp rag hung on peg above the bin and dries them on her apron. As she turns she just now seems to realize that her orders are not being followed because everyone is staring in disbelief at the powder that is drifting like fine dust through the hair. “Ahh man,” she shakes her head and stares with the rest for a moment. “Alright everybody move! Someone cover the stew and the roast before it gets ruined! Somebody grab a broom and a dustpan. Let’s go!” She sweeps across the room herself and goes about lidding and covering nearly finished dishes before they can be totally coated in white powder.

"That's… pretty much the sentiment," Nora says as Lysia comes in to break the stunned silence with her reaction. But she, herself, is not getting involved in this one. And as the orders come to cover this and grab that, the headman's assistant will just draw herself a step back and out of the way. It's only after moving, when she sees a bit of white dust falling from the corner of her eye, that she realizes she's been, well, powdered. And how it's her turn, "Aah, man," and her hands go to work, trying to brush the flour off without actually undoing her neatly styled hair. "I guess it could be worse. It could be sauce." Which might be worse for her and her nice white shirt, but flour is its own kind of nightmare. Meanwhile, the cook she was talking with sends the apprentice back to the stores for another bag so that the baking can perhaps start on time. Oh, but he'll have to clean this up when he gets back. And meanwhile, everyone is starting to leave footprints in the mess of powder.

The epicenter of the dropped flour is right next to the garnish and mixing stations. “Of course it is,” Lysia mutters out loud as she grabs a rag and starts cleaning up prep stations. “If the egg batter got flour in it then dump it and go down and get more eggs to mix up more, please.” She isn’t an unkind woman. Just a harried one since she’s been here less than a moon and apparently the main Weyrcook has been searched to stand. Leaving Lysia with a boatload of extra responsibility to keep the kitchens running in proper order. Given her rank it’s not out of the realm of her capability. It’s just that a Weyr is a whole lot larger than a Hold. “You here,” she addresses Nora unknowing and uncaring at the moment who the woman is. She’s too busy to check for knots right this second. “Honey could you please dust yourself off over by the stairs. You’re getting flour /all over/ the dough station..” Swipe-dust-clean.

Kultir steps into the kitchens carrying a tub of carefully stacked dishes and flatware to deposit at the sinks for washing by the boy's assigned that duty. He's lucky enough that his path takes him well out of the area of flour dusting so at least /he's/ not leaving dusty footprints behind as he grabs another to fill. "Lysia? There's another wing o' riders comin' in late from sweeps …" he says, trying to catch the girl in charge of the kitchens' attention. "Jes so's ye know …" He heads on back to clear another table, hoping that he can get it taken care of before someone decides to sit at the dirty table. He nods briefly to the other woman he doesn't know with a slight smile and heads out on his fourth, fifth … whatever, trip.

There might not be a knot on Nora anyway, given that she likes to have a bit more control over the color scheme of her accessories. But nor does she seem at all nonplussed by being directed about for the moment. There's just a blink and an "Oh!" and she does her best to tread carefully toward the stair as she continues her wiping and brushing and the light fluffing of her shirt to send a faint cloud into the air. "Aren't dough stations usually… floured?" she wonders inattentively, perhaps not even really expecting an answer. She looks up when a new body arrives and manages not to move through the flour zone, there's a blink before she waves her slim fingers and smiles a little guiltily to have to stand amid the mess. "Hello, again." Kultir seems busy, though. So she'll leave him to it. "If you want," she mentions to Lysia. "We could have him do the cleaning, then the staff can keep on target for dinner. Candidate and all." Or slave.

Lysia has managed to make a dent in the mess. Working around assistants and staff at their stations. Trying to help everyone get back on track. "Thanks for the heads up Jungle-man." This is called back to Kultir when he informs her of the fresh influx of 'riders. "Hey," she calls after him, "check the drinks station while you're out there." She hopes that he'd heard her because she already moving on to the next task. Grabbing freshly baked rolls out of one of the massive ovens. "Evine, please put the spicy fish rolls on the cooling rack into a basket and take it out please. Everything else seems to be well-stocked still." Her spicy fish rolls and her bubbly pies seem to fly off the tables ever since she'd arrived. "I'll need someone to make up more batter for some egg pies." Hopefully someone not too busy will get that done for her. She spreads the hot rolls onto a clean cooling rack. She turns from this latest task to grin at Nora. "He's gotta keep the tables cleaned off for the next batch of hungry folk. I'll have him sweep up when he gets a moment." She dusts off her hands on her apron and presents one to Nora. "I'm Lysia by the way." She chuckles and looks over at the dough station she'd been questioned about, "And too much flour in the dough can ruin it."

Kultir had heard Lysia's request as he'd slipped back out of the kitchens with his empty tub so when he returns a very short time later with the tub filled he can let her know what's needed. He stacks his tub at the side of the wash station since the washers are getting a bit behind him, still not having touched the last three tubs he'd brought in. "They's wantin' more klah … looks like jes' one pitcher left. Brought the empties back in though, they's sticky." he says, pushing in next to the boys to get those pitchers washed. "Oh, an' a couple more o' juice prolly would be good too. S'far the wine's holdin' out." He quickly rinses the pitchers he's brought back and snags a towel to get them dried off for reuse.

As the kitchens swing back into action with Lysia at the helm, and with Nora mostly cleaned up - or as well as she's likely to be for the moment (there's still a dusting of flour along one eyebrow of which she's totally unaware) - the assistant headwoman inches away from the attacking of brooms and dust pans, trying to move around the edge of the activity so as not to delay anyone further. "Yes," she says, turning a smile on the captain of this particular vessel. "Lysia. Journeyman. You're filling in for Yulena." She's heard as much, what with it being her job. "You seem to have everything under control," she muses or compliments, either way, it's with a grin. Regarding Kultir, "He's not the only one out there, if you need a hand in here…" But since things do seem under control, she doesn't press the option any further. And oh, he seems to be back anyway, and busy. "I suppose I'll get out of your hair," she laughs, reaching for her ledger and pen from some less-floury counter.

Lysia is normally a whirl-wind of energy in the Kitchens. Bouncing around from station to station helping and offering advice. It isn’t until she stops moving that one has a chance to realize that she’s a tiny teenager with a Journeyman’s knot on her shoulder. Go figure! She grins up at Nora as they exchange greetings. Her attention is grabbed by Kultir’s return and she turns her head in his direction. “There’s more in the brewer on th’ stove. But you’ll prolly have to dump more in when you fill those pitchers. The tin’s on the shelf above the brewer. Have Evine go down to the stores for the juice when he gets back in please.” She smiles sweetly at the Candidate who towers above her own dainty height. “You’ve /really/ gotta sweet talk Yulena out of her klah recipe before the tins she made up get emptied.” Everyone /loves/ that woman’s klah! She turns back to Nora with a pleasant smile. “Thank you for the compliment Ma’am. I sure appreciate it.” When the other woman professes the desire to go on about her day she nods her head in understanding. “If there’s anything I can do for you. Just let me know.”

Kultir nods briefly as he finishes drying out the pitchers and moves them to the mentioned stove. He lifts the heavy pot used for brewing the klah easily and carefully fills the pitchers without slopping more than a few drips on the outsides. The kettle gets plunked back onto the stove as he reaches up to the shelf to measure out more of the klah powder. Then he's off to the sink to get a bucket of water to replenish the kettle. A clean wet rag is snagged to wipe the pitchers down before taking them up to deliver to the drinks table in the caverns. "I dunno Evine … but I'll go get it when I git back … less'n he gets it afore I do." is offered over his shoulder as he makes use of his long strides to take the pitchers, two in each hand, back out again.

"Good luck," is all Nora says in parting, a quick wave of her hand almost behind her as she heads off to do whatever else it is that's on her list for today. Maybe someone will tell her about the eyebrow flour at some point.

Lysia watches after Nora as the woman heads off on the rest of her daily chores. “Thanks a bundle,” she calls after the woman’s retreating back. With a deep sigh she decides she’s been standing here long enough and gets herself moving again. “Thanks jungle-man!” She calls after the Candidate as she moves past him carrying the klah pitchers. The egg batter is being mixed by one of the newer staff and so Lysia stops by the girl’s station to check on the progress. “You gotta whip ‘em harder than that. They don’t need stirred honey.” She gently nudges the girl aside and takes the bowl and whisk into her possession. If you want a job done..

Kultir returns to the kitchens from his last trip to the kitchens and slumps briefly against the wall with a woof, he's breathing a bit harder than normal. "It's gettin' busy out there … an' it ain't even a reg'lar meal time!" he says, wiping the sweat off his brow. He shoves himself back upright from where his hands were bracing him on his knees and gets back to work. He moves to the tubs he brought back for washing and starts stacking the plates, bowls, mugs and flatware on the washing counter so that he can dump the garbage out of the tub.

Lysia turns to survey the kitchens with a bowl pressed against her stomach and her whisk just a whirling. “You gotta get more exercise Jungle-man! If you’re already outta breath.” She shakes her head at the pathetic picture the candidate makes slumped there against the wall. The bowl and whisk are abandoned on the station and Lysia leaves the girl to finish her work. “When yer done playing with the dishes. Wash your hands and go get that juice please.” She treads through the flour on the floor to make her rounds of the kitchens. Checking on the workers progress. “Yer gonna need more water in the stew to balance the flour that got in it,” she tells one boy as she walks past him.

Kultir grins and nods at Lysia's jab at his lack of conditioning. "Guess I do since I ain't be runnin' the jungle trails no more." he says, glad now that he's started running a few miles every morning. He dumps the last tub and obediently moves to wash his hands, working up a good lather all the way to his elbows since he's managed to slop stuff on his arms as well. Once that's taken care of, he heads down the stairs to the storage cavern for the juice. A short time later he trots back up the stairs, four more pitchers grasped in his large hands. "Lemme know what'cha want me t' do when I git back, eh?" And out he goes to maneuver throught the crowd around the food and drinks tables to deliver the juice.

Dimitri was never one for hard labor. That much us clear. And he's having some trouble accepting the fact that it's desired from him now, practically diving out of the Living Caverns and into the kitchens. He looks suspiciously alert, eyebrows all the way up as he presses himself to the wall next to the doorway and peers back from whence he came. Hiding from someone? Don't be silly. "I don't know what they expect us to do! I mean, I can work, I can work just fine, but at this rate and without a drink, I can't-…" Only now do the kitchen noises appear to get through to him, and he turns slowly to let his eyes scan the rest of the room. Oh. When his eyes land on Lysia, a smile is promptly flashed. Big and wide and fake, as he straightens up. "… - wait to do some more."

Lysia laughs at Kultir's admission. "If you would help sweep the rest of this flour up. That'd be great!" She is a little bitty thing and she's well aware of it. So when she spies Dimitri's less than stellar entrance she angles her sweep of the kitchens in his direction. She looks up and then up some more into the man's smiling face. "Welcome," she chimes way too sweetly. "Ain't you a tall drink of water? Alright then Legs.. you're right on time." Is there a scheduled time? Not really. But his arrival is beneficial to her anyway. "Grab a wet rag and clean off all the shelves and hanging pots will ya? One of the apprentices decided to douse the kitchens in flour a little while ago. And I haven't had a chance to get it all cleaned up yet."

Kultir returns from the caverns with empty hands and glances around till he spies a broom. Ayup, sweeping the flour up … so much fun. Too vigorous and it goes all over, not vigorous enough and it stays where it lays. He glances up when Lysia greets someone else and chuckles at Dimitri. "Hey, Dimitri? Gotcha cornered, eh?" he says, carefully sweeping the flour into a pile and chasing stray puffs out from under where ever it could have gotten.

"Legs!" Dimitri echoes, with a brief and almost anxious-sounding laugh. Ha ha ha. He continues as he moves along the kitchen in long and confident strides, looking for said wet rag to grab, "You know I was going to introduce myself, but I don't think I will, now. I like 'Legs'." Then, one of his arms shoots up for a wave at Kultir, nearly clocking someone nearby over the head by accident. "Hey, friend! Cornered? Ah, yeah- but then again, getting cornered by the ladies, not too bad, eh?" His smile turns ever so briefly into a smirk instead, as if he's just imparted some very subtle information about something. Eh? EH?? Now, where's that rag?

Lysia chuckles when she shocks a laugh out of the man. It's always better if she can keep folks at least somewhat happy while they work. "You can still introduce yourself," she offers as she turns to walk away from Dimitri. She casts a look over her shoulder as the Candidates greet one another. "I see you're already familiar with Jungle-man. Good deal. The two of you will do nicely then." She heads over to her own station and starts working on her pie crusts. No one dares touch her station when she's making her pies. If her crusts aren't flaky and delicious you will know her wrath! The joy of running the Kitchens? She's not the one sweeping or dusting flour! Oh yeah! "Be careful that you don't just let the flour fall all over everything again," she cautions Dimitri. The rest of the staff might get cranky if they find themselves covered in flour for the second time in a day.

Kultir chuckles at Dimitri and shakes his head, scooping the pile of flour into the dustpan so he can dump it in the garbage. Finally, after sweeping and dumping multiple times, the huge pile is now … gone. Well, not gone, but no longer on the floor. Which was the mission after all. He stows the broom and dustpan where he'd gotten them and just stands there for a moment. "Okay, Lys …" He can call her Lys, can't he? Too late now! "What else ye need done? Or is't back t' dishes?" He leans against an empty counter out of the way, waiting for his newest orders. He smirks back at Dimitri … or should he call him 'Legs' now? and winks. Lysia is one of the better people to get cornered by, at least.

"Introductions are for people with less amazing nicknames. 'Dimitri', eh, it's good for the stage," He shrugs, then promptly bends at the middle and clamps both hands onto one of his legs, "but if I could just be known for these babies? Oofh. Much better." Oh hey, someone with a rag! He bolts upward again, and snatches a rag right out of someone else's hand as they're about to put it back where they found it. Subsequently ignoring the glare and making his way over to the pots. Quite cheerfully, even if his smile still only exists on the lower half of his face, and his grip on that rag is just slightly too tight to be just for holding's sake.

Lysia looks up when Kultir decides to shorten her name. Lys, eh? She shrugs her shoulders deciding it'll do. She's been call worse for sure. "If you wouldn't mind can up pull the herdbeast tips outta the pit?" Always nice to have someone strapping around to do that task for her. "He'll show you which pit the pot is in," she waves a dough gooey hand toward a nearby apprentice. "Once those are out and on his station then yes, please help with the dishes." She flips an empty pie tin upside down on top of the pie crust she'd been rolling out. Makes for a perfect template after all as she cuts around the tin. Dimitri's antics shock a laugh out of her. "Well you gotta admit they're nice legs!" She tends to give everyone nicknames around here. It's so much easier than trying to keep names and faces straight when they belong to people she doesn't see daily. "Dimitri is a right nice name. I'm Lysia or Lys..apparently." She shoots a wry smile in Kultir's direction before returning her attention to her station.

Kultir grins and gives her a nod, turning to the appointed apprentice and following the boy to the appropriate pit. A couple of towels make good hand protection and he hefts the pot of tips out of the pit and thumps it down on the table the apprentice waved at. Hanging over a pot full of yummy food is a good way to find out if one is going to enjoy supper … once one is finished slavi … er, working, that is. "Mmm, smells good." he comments as he heads back to the dish washing sink. He jerks his head at the rather small boy who's washing and mutters, "Go take 'em back out t' the tables." The kid gives a grin, hastily dries his hands and scurries off to do just that, tote piles of plates and mugs and such back out to the caverns to be reused.

For once Nika isn't screaming into a room. No, today Nika is SNEAKING, back pressed against the wall, then the door, then spinning onto the wall again. Don't mind her, she can't be seen. That soft 'dun'nu'nu'nu' is the tiny woman humming her own theme song. Slipping under a table, around a stool and to the far counter, a hand slips up to the between meal sideboard and snatches a cookie. She's about to prance off, but only makes it a couple of steps when BOTH of her candidates are spotted. "MITRI! Kultir! You're cleaning!" The news radiates from her like light from Rukbat, so over joyed that the cookie clutches between both her hands is accidently snapped in half. Which snaps the woman back to reality and she plops half of it in her mouth. "Youff havin' funf?"

Pots, pots, pots. Dimitri, despite having fled in here to escape work, seems pretty content searching the hanging pots for the MOST flour-covered one. He hums a few notes, before reaching for a medium-sized one and lifting it off and into his arms with a "Ffh," at the weight. Just in time for Nika to OH SO SNEAKILY come rushing in. He's only just throwing the side of the pot a thoughtful PEER when his name is suddenly called, and apparently startles him enough to yelp and go wide-eyed as the pot slips from his grasp. Oh no. He attempts to catch it on its way down but just ends up bumping a forearm against it and sending it ROLLING over the floor. Past others, past counters. Uh. Whoop. His eyebrows shoot up, he blinks, then… straightens slowly, smile a smidge withered despite a cheerful tone when he calls, in response, "Nika!" Nothing happened. Nope.

Lysia looks up from centering the pie crust into the tin and smiles at Kultir’s compliment. “Thanks, Jungle-man. I hope that everyone enjoys them. They’re one of my recipes. Folks seem to really get a kick out of my spicy fishrolls. So I figured I could do worse by tossing out some spicy herdbeast tips for a trial run.” She chuckles, “Makes good use of ‘em I figure.” Better than just boiling them for soup stock or something. When Kultir starts delegating at the dish station she quirks an eyebrow at him and chuckles. She doesn’t get a chance to tease him though. Because the quirky Wingleader everyone talks about is sneaking about her Kitchens. The woman doesn’t address her though so she goes about the business of dumping pie filling into the pan. The sound of a pan clattering to the floor brings her head up sharply though. “Wanna get that Legs? Or does it live on the floor now? Hand it off to Jungle-man so’s he can wash it please.”

Kultir rolls his eyes at the greeting Nika gives when she sees him, but since his back is to her she wouldn't see that. "I've /been/ cleaning since after noon meal …" is the grumbled response. Much less cheerful toward the bluerider than Dimitri's own. He glances over at the dropped pot sound and chuckles at the other man's fumbling attempt to recover the pot he's dropped. "Way t' go, /Legs/ …" he tosses a teasing laugh that direction before returning to his washing of dishes and waits for the pot to show up as well.

"Legs!?" Is this Dimitri's new nickname? She's too busy scurrying after the clattering pot to make much more of it, or of Kultir's lack of enthusiasm for his lot in life. "I got it!" Petite arms wrap round metal as she skips to the so called jungle-man, who receives a smile along with his pot. "HI!" Though to him too she spends little time as she bounces back to the candidates. The woman who is clearly in charge of the kitchens is slipped up to. "Hi! I' NIKA! Who are you? Can I help? I'm real good at drying, plus I have little hands so I can get into spots." Her well called small hands are lifted in the air as proof.

If the kitchens weren't chaotic enough, Donner has to join the fray. Not there one minute, suddenly there the next, the teen has followed in behind a drudge carrying a rather large platter in from the Living Caverns and truth be told, he doesn't look very, well, appropriate for kitchen duty. The candidate is drenched in a fine layer of sweat, with obvious stains along his neckline and armpits, and even down in the seat of his pants, and his normally full mop of hair is plastered down against his forehead. He lingers there for a moment, clearly in the way of the kitchen traffic before he moves towards the group of people he knows— candidates! Other candidates! And Nika. "Hey. Hey. HEY. They sent me in here to help you guys out," Donner says to no one in particular, sweaty arms outstretched. "It looks like you have enough help though."

"Legs!" This is the second time Dimitri's repeated the word, and this time it's even more enthusiastic than the last. And only partly because Nika's doing his work for him by running after the pot. This time his smile is real, at least… until he realizes he's now got to go pick another pot to clean. When he turns around to do do so this time, he's a little faster to wrap his arms around the biggest one he can find, haauling it onto a table near Kultir and landing it down with a hollow CLANK. After Nika's last comment and while Donner's a-talking, he leans toward the supposed jungle-man and cracks a lopsided grin.
You overhear Dimitri mutter, "She … … … … … if you know what … mean." to Kultir.

Lysia tops the pie she's working on with a lid of crust dough and cuts perfect little slits in the top of it with a sharp knife. She chuckles at the banter going on around her between the candidates. A quick check of her station doesn't turn up any ground sweetcane. She sweeps her attention across the kitchen and spies the container on a shelf above the prep station. Before she can try to go and get it Nika suddenly slips up beside her. "Wha?" She looks over at the woman, shocked for a moment, and then grins. "I'm Lysia. An' you can help Jungle-man with the dishes if'n ye like. Kultir can use the help probably." She isn't about to turn down the offer of help. Not with the supper rush starting to hit. The staff are all busy either finishing up the mad variety of food, or running it out to the caverns. Lysia spies the new sweaty piece of Candi-flesh and grins. "You there! Sweat-stain! Could you run below and grab another bag of rivergrains? We're going to need to put more on in just a few." She /never/ has too many people! There's always something to do around here.

Kultir nearly chokes when Dimitri mutters and after one loud guffaw manages to keep it down to mere snickers. He shoulder nudges the older man and shakes his head as he clamps his lips shut to keep from saying all the things that are suddenly running through his head looking for an exit. Especially since the bluerider is now ensconced a space or three beyond him drying the dishes he's washing. He glances over at his shoulder at the new greeting and raises an eyebrow. "Sweat-stain?" Really? The guy is never going to live that down, is he? Nope, not with Dimitri hearing it …

Legs, jungle-man, sweat-stain, that last kid has the best one! Her face lights up in delight. "Do I get a fun nickname?" Nika peers expectantly at Lysia, her round eyes begging. Before she half leaps, half walks over to Kultir. "Hey! I'm supposed to help ya. Whattya need me to do?" If she is at all aware that something probably pretty dirty about her has been said she's not mentioning it, her rapt desire to help is consuming all of her energy. Basically bouncing in place as she waits for the candidate to get her instructions.

"What?" Donner's initial reaction isn't positive at all. Okay, none of it is positive, especially since the guy is flushing such a horrible shade of pink now. His mouth opens for a moment, as if to speak, before it clamps shut again, and he's crossing his arms defiantly. "Sweat-stain? No. If you want me to get those river grains, you better think up a better name than THAT." He stamps a foot down for emphasis, because Donner is going to stand. his. ground. Because he's so well at listening to those that outrank him. "NIKAAA, don't encourage her!" The petulant whine is the next thing to come tumbling out of his mouth, but he's already turning towards his ordered task. "Anything but sweat-stain!"

There is no escape, Donner. "Sweat-staaaAAaain." Dimitri sings idly, contently having taken Kultir's shoulder-bump in stride and indubitably making mental notes of all of these new names he's learning. Though if there is one thing the performer-made-Candidate cannot do, it is sing. At least he's short, because soon enough he's busy focusing on the pot he's brought over, smacking the wet rag he stole from someone else onto its side and starting to collect a thin layer of flour from its surface. "Nika— Nika Nika." He ponders, sticking the tip of his tongue out at the pot's side like it requires FOCUS to do this job. All the while managing to just move the flour around as opposed to OFF of it. "Cheer-…. bbh-happy… uh. Rukbat's… nnnn'Igotnothin'. How're you doing, Niks?"

Lysia is not to be blamed for the nicknames she hands out. If you come into her kitchens looking like a walking sweat-stain. You will be called on it. When Nika asks her for a nickname the journeyman laughs and shrugs her shoulders. "Sure thing honey. I'll call ya Kooky. Cause you're about a fun one ain't ya?" She's on a roll and heading for the sweetcane that's across the room from her station. On her way past she snags Dimitri's tunic. "C'mere an grab that will ya legs?" She points up at the container sitting on a shelf well above her reach. "They sometimes set stuff on the shelves just to watch me climb for it." She runs a tight ship but fun ship. And the staffers sometimes like to mess with her. When Donner starts crying a river over her nickname for him she turns to face him with a stern look. "Fine then child," she tells the candidate uncaring that he's about the same age as her, "I'll call ya Snippy. An' if ya don't go get those rivergrains, I'll call ya outta here. And I'll report ya besides. Next time /bathe/ before you dare grace the kitchens. People eat th' food coming outta here. And nobody wants to eat what yer cooking."

Kultir groans as he hears Lysia send the bluerider to the dish sink and sighs when Nika herself bounces over to ask what she should do. "I s'pose ye c'n dry … down there." he says, jerking his head at the end of the sink where the plates are stacked waiting for the boys to get to drying them. Slowly. At Donner's whine though, his chuckling starts again … kid should have changed his clothes. Tsktsk. And, of course, Dimitri trying to sing gets a wince since it's RIGHT IN HIS EAR! "Shards, Dimitri! Didja hafta do that in m' ear?" he growls at the shorter man. Oh lovely … now he gets to listen to half a conversation since he's gone deaf on Dimitri's side. This earns the man another glare.

"I'm Kooky!" Nika squeals at Kultir, who probably already knew that. Though it is Donner her eyes fall too next, and she turning slowly with the pot she's picked up to dry. "You canna just complain your way outta what you don't like. Sweat Stains'. The leader proclaims the name again, despite Lysia's assurances that it has changed. Lesson one for the candidates, as weird of a lesson as it might be. Dimitri's antics earn him laughter, "There isn't a poem to describe me?

Kid! Donner ain't no kid. Even though he sure is acting like one. There's a momentary huff in response to Lysia's chiding, and the teen disappears for a moment before returning with a sack of grains over one shoulder. "Y'know, I was gonna change my clothes, but when the Weyrlingmaster grabs you after some afternoon PT and tells you not to be idle, well—" the bag is flopped down at the journeywoman's feet, and he gives her an expectant look for the next task. "-You do what is told. Ya'think I like being drenched in my own pit stains, eh?" He wheels around next to Nika, draping one long arm over the blue rider's shoulders. "And if you don't watch out, I'll rub my body all over you. And you too Dimitri; both of you. Not even kidding."

Mmh? Dimitri pops back up from a BATTLE with the flour on his pot, only to drop the rag and meander over when he's told to. Kultir's question? Is surely rhetorical. If he had to answer ever 'did you have to', he wouldn't have time to be here right now. "Imagine! If complaining would get me what I wanted, Nika. Nika! I'd be sitting on the beach, sipping something that's once upon a time gone though a good deal of fermenting and aging and perfecting out of something that I could eat afterwards." Nnow over at the container he's been told to grab, he snatches it off the shelf in one smooth movement (him, show off? Never!) and— fails to actually give it to Lysia. He just ends up hovering it in mid-air, just within her reach but somewhat distractedly wavering there. The reason? His eyes have fallen on Nika again. And then, somewhat more pointedly, Donner. "… I had no idea you were into that. But, you know, I'll keep it in mind," Joy is the word to describe what's on his face in anticipation of saying the next words, "Sweat-stain."

Kultir bites his lip when Lysia declares Nika 'Kooky' and has to turn away to keep the delight from showing in his eyes before he has to look at her again. "Of course you are …" he says, voice muffled with suppressed laughter. Kooky isn't /exactly/ what he'd call her but … close enough. When he hears Donner's offer to Dimitri and Nika though his laughter burbles through. "Careful there, Snippy … they might be enjoyin' tha' more'n ye think they might." he says, finally getting to the last of a pile of mugs and finding no more tubs that need emptying. Yay! Now he gets to dry … closer to Nika … yeah … *sigh* Oh, wait … she said supper was starting, right? "Hey, Lys? Is my shift over? Supper's started, yeah?" he asks, suddenly rather bright eyed at the thought he might be able to escape again.

Lysia has no idea that Kultir is having issues with his dish partner. If she did she’d probably rib him about it and go on with her day anyhow. She rolls her eyes at him when he complains at Dimitri for his singing. “Shoulda called ‘im screachin wherry,” she mutters and shakes her head. Wow! That was loud and off-key. Nika earns herself a wide grin when the ‘rider accepts her nickname with the same grace most folks do. When Donner returns with the rivergrains and is /still/ griping. “Well you’re free to go change if you’d prefer. I imagine the rest of us would appreciate it. But you got a quarter candlemark and ya better be back.” Which really doesn’t give him time now does it? Does she care? Nope! She scoops a tray of roast herdbeast and thrusts it at him, “Here Snippy. Take this out to th’ cavern tables please.” She leaves it up to him whether he drops it off and goes to change. Or sticks around as he is. Either way she’s obviously over his attitude. And now Dimitri is waving about the container of sweetcane. She makes a couple grabs for it and misses both times. “Hey! Legs!! Gimmie that, eh?” She pokes him in his belly and looks up at the man with laughter dancing in her eyes.

"EWWW!" Nika grimaces and leaps away from Donner. "I have sweat-stain sweat on me!" She's mostly joking. Promise. Even if she's currently clearing herself at a sprint from the kitchens, another cookie nabbed with her free hand and the pot still clutched in the other. She'll remember sooner or later and bring it back. Before too much damage is done to it. Probably. "I gotta go bathe!" Because Donner sweat just won't do.

Yulena slowly makes her way into the kitchens. She knows it well enough to not surprise anyone bearing something sharp. Ahh, the smells, the clamor, the scre… no, that's not right. "What in the name of Faranth is going on here?" Her kitchens, her beautiful kitchens… "I leave for a few days," okay, maybe more, "And suddenly… oh, okay, maybe not," the evidence that the kitchens are running relatively smoothly without her, stops her in her tracks. Harrumph. "Anything I can help with?"

Donner isn't helping his situation, poor thing, his face darkening with a deeper flush. Hell, he looks nearly maroon at this point. He swings around to grab the tray, jerking it a little too roughly as he assures his grip, the juices of cut meat dribbling to the floor. "Keep calling me sweat-stain and I'm going to poop in your bed." And then he's stalking to the exit. "I hate you all." And then he's gone to change. Or flee.

Belly-prods! One of Dimitri's many, many weaknesses! The container he's holding is lowered as he reflexively ppulls his elbows to his sides, and his gaze flits to Lysia with his expression in the middle of baffled and amused. There's worse people to be ordered around by! He might have to come to the kitchen more often. Nika's exit gets a lighthearted chuckle that just happens to coincide with a slump of his shoulders. Sad she's left? Don't be silly. As for Donner, "If he shits in my bed," He leans back to tell Kultir, Bitran roots suddenly a bit tighter around his words as he grins, "I'm taking yours, yeah?" Yulena, as he says this, gets a cheerful little wave and a raise of eyebrows. Helloo. Absolutely nothing bad going on here.

Lysia’s attention is snagged by Kultir’s question. She looks around the kitchen and realizes that most of the dinner rush for the kitchen staff is over at this point. “Yup it sure is Jungle man! And thanks a bunch for yer help. As promised you can grab one of the fresh bubblies off the cooling racks on your way out.” She whirls around when Nika starts yelling and watches the woman dash across the kitchen and out the door. Carrying one of the good cooking pots no less. “Well we’ll never see /that/ pot again.” She laughs softly and shakes her head. Yulena’s question catches her attention and the smile on her face turns radiant. “Yulena!! Oh yeah you can help!” Brace yourself. “Take over as Cook for a little while will you?” She waves her hands around the kitchens, “I’ve been trying to keep everything in order since you left us. But the stores of your Klah mix are getting low. And /I/ would like a little break.” She really does deserve one. She takes the container of sweetcane from Dimitri and returns to her station to top her pie with it. Slipping it into an oven before she makes good her escape.

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