A'dan, E'bert, Sacitca, tasna, W'rin


A late lunch encourages cameos and questioning conversations.


It is afternoon of the nineteenth day of the third month of the first turn of the 12th pass. It is the nineteenth day of Spring and 58 degrees. It is a bright, sunny day.


Living Cavern, Igen Weyr

OOC Date


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Living Cavern

Dim light from hanging glow-globes cannot fully camouflage the ravages of time and neglect on Igen's busy living caverns, though hints of its former glory peek through in the decorative cuts to the cave's natural limestone and the high quality of dusty, tatty-ended tapestries. Here and there, skybroom tables — stained dark by wood finish and a decade of grime — sit in loose groups, flanked by wicker chairs with pointy, broken rattan that pokes out to invariably find unprotected skin. The seemingly randomly placed furniture, however, at closer inspection, forms a sort of cross-shape of negative space. At the northernmost walls and nooks of the caverns, a long buffet table with tarnished lazy susans hosts an array of finger-foods and pitchers for the interested, refilled occasionally by drudges that shuffle in from the curtained entrance to the south, beyond which lies the kitchens. To the east is a large arch leading outside and, across from that, to the west, a set of rattling doors that open to reveal the tunnels and stairs of the inner caverns themselves.

The lunchtime rush has just barely passed, leaving people scattered at tables here and there or finally settling down to eat. A few stragglers do still come along, but since the lunching hour isn't quite yet passed, that's only to be expected. At least the lack of rain today means that it's not completely one of those muddy spring days, so there are fewer people tracking in than normal! Sacitca is among the latecomers, having only just recently finished one of her assigned chores. Despite her delay in arriving there are still several Candidates finishing up, and her eyes are quick to pick out faces she knows among the Candidates still eating. Once her plate's been filled, the young woman is quick to approach the table and murmur a hello while she takes a seat. Only once she has will she ask, "how has your day gone thus far?"

Tasena can't have been here too long, as she's only about halfway through a sandwich, and the rest of her food remains untouched. Her glass, however, is empty. She looks up when Sacitca joins the table, then uses the interruption as an excuse to pour herself more water from the table's pitcher. "Good. Productive," she answers before her gaze slides toward some of the other candidates, then back to her plate as she pokes at some of the steamed veggies with a crust of bread. "How about you? Anything interesting?"

Sacitca flashes a smile at Tasena as she pours herself some klah, and tilts a hand to the side. "Not particularly interesting…but informative nonetheless. It's surprising how many things you…take for granted when you don't have to do them yourself normally." Because let's face it, in the Bazaar, there's a lot of things she simply didn't have to do. "How did your business associate take your being Searched?" Because she knows vaguely that Tasena was up to something business-y, but she herself wasn't involved in it. Perfume and alcohol only mix so far. "The…Vintner, was he?" While she waits for an answer from the other, she'll start on her own lunch.

Tasena lets out a short laugh and grins at Sacitca before she takes a small bite of her sandwich. That's quickly down before replies with a drawling, "Not that's the truth," as she leans back in her chair. She finishes a good half of her water refill, having apparently had a thirsty morning. "Kuthon," she supplies, naming the Vintner in question. "He was just about to retreat to try to mix his magic elixir of alcohol, so it wasn't a huge loss to him, I guess," she answers, setting aside her glass. "How about you? Is someone covering for your stall?"

Sacitca returns Tasena's grin, and tilts her head to the side slightly. "Well, it fell at a good time for the both of you, then." Her grin turns a little impish, and she adds, "you were going to need something to keep busy; or did you have something already lined up?" The question about her own stall has her expression turning wry. "My little sister, Liztea, is running it for now. I suppose in hindsight that it's a good thing I've been teaching her the business. The stall will see some new scents soon, I'm sure." Liztea's ideal scents are slightly different from Sacitca's. "Have you been through Candidacy before?" Inquiring minds and all that.

Tasena and Sacitca are sitting at a table with a handful of other candidates, taking some time out of their day for a late lunch. Tasena answers Sacitca at first with a shallow shrug, in part to delay talking until her mouth is clear of food again. "Figured something would come up, or I'd fill it at the Weyr for a bit." She grins and flicks at the white knot on her shoulder. "Guess that's what happened, in its own way, huh?" She again drains her glass and pours more water into it while shaking her head. "This is my first. You?"

Sacitca sips her klah while the other candidate's talking, and nods in both understanding and agreement. Her food is about a quarter of the way gone, the latest of the latecomers so far. But at least it was because she was doing a chore! "You never quite know what's going to pop up.." She says with a wry smile. "It's my first as well." Her own white knot gets a moment of consideration, and a light shrug. "It's a blessing, in it's own way. Have you spent much time around dragons, overall? It's hard to miss them at the weyr proper, but that's not quite the same." As spending time with them, if you know what she means.

Enter a famished weyrleader. Direct from some meeting he certainly did not want to be attendance for, his displeasure already written on his face. And as he turns to the leadership table, his beady eyes falling upon the masses that wish to continue his torture, he lets out a mumbled curse and turns to scan the rest of the seats. Ah, candidates. That is a reasonable excuse, and so W'rin finds himself squeezing his massive frame between two barely developed candidates with a grunt, he'll allow the one some forgiveness for not saluting. He did after all just smash the boy's elbow into the table, but his attention is turned on the two bonding females. "Candidates." More a growl than an actual hello.

Ah the blessings of being behind the Weyrleader. Alas this only lasts for so long, and E'bert is snapping a salute as W'rin passes by him to seat himself between the two candidates. Then it's back to the task at hand, getting himself some food.

A'dan's mealtimes are all jacked. This feels like it should be dinner. But it's afternoon. He walks into the caverns, eyes going automatically to the Candidate table, counting noses, assensing the vibe as he makes his way across to the tables. "Mmmph," he grunts at the selection. It's an appreciative grunt. Seasonal changes have brought with them new choices and A'dan approves. Not much food for a man of A'dan's bulk. He approaches the table of… Oh, look, Weyrleader and Candidates. Fun. "Good afternoon, Weyrleader," A'dan draws himself up to attention, plate held in both hands, standing squared up behind his chosen chair. Hands full means that saluting is not proscribed, rather, this: "Permission to be seated, Sir."

Tasena is on the ball enough to toss up a salute when she realizes just who it is smooshing himself in between two of her fellow candidates. "Sir," she murmurs along with the salute, then turns back to her meal, intent on finishing up the veggies and the last quarter of sandwich. She glances toward Sacitca and looks like she might start to reply, but then there's an A'dan nearby greeting the weyrleader, and some younger rider over there, too. "You have a wake of salutes," she tells W'rin, grinning slightly.

When Sacitca said 'you never know what's going to pop up', she didn't think such living examples would follow so quickly! E'bert's path is tracked briefly, before the Weyrleader himself crashes the figurative party. Her salute is carefully executed, and accompanied by a polite, "sir." A'dan gets the same, salute and greeting, a smile crossing Sacitca's lips following Tasena's words. "Yes.." She turns her attention back to her meal to make some actual progress on it. Foodtimes are good times to run into all sorts of people, it seems!

Bristled lip hairs hide any movement of lips, as the Weyrleader watches A'dan, but finally he inclines his head toward an empty seat, before shoveling mountain of food into his mouth. That one candidate that salutes and then grins, her only answer is the man's feline size paw wiping the stray particles of food off his beard and on to the table. Finally the salute is returned, little crumbs left behind in his short cropped hair mark the crispness of the gesture. And it is her comment that finally draws him to notice E'bert, somewhere behind him. "Well sit down boy. Makin' me nervous, lurking." As he's turning back it is Sacitca who becomes his victim. "What's your name, girl?" Ah yes. Weyrleader bonding time.

Having gathered his food, E'bert seats himself across from one of the candidates. Which one he doesn't know, he hasn't been paying attention really, "Sir," he says with a nod to W'rin.

It has not escaped A'dan's notice that the table didn't come to their feet and salute the Weyrleader when he approached. He glowers up and down the table. This would require remediation. He pushes his plate a little forward and gathers himself to stand.

A'dan's movement is caught by the W'rin, and though there is a noticeable (and creepily unpracticed) upward curl of his lip, he raises a hand in a motion at the AWLM to leave it be. "They'll fuckin' get it by the end, A'dan. Or they won't make it till the eggs are rockin'." And with that as his final word of advice, the man tosses his head back, scrapes the last of his food into his mouth, and smashes away from the table. Back to work. Joy.

Tasena catches that movement, too, but as she is clueless as to its origin, she just gives A'dan a curious little side glance and continues polishing off the last of her lunch. Then W'rin's ever poetical speech grabs her attention in time to see the excellent example of etiquette. She watches him leave, then again shares a look with Sacitca before turning toward E'bert. "Any advice for surviving candidacy, sir? Seeing as you're closest to it?"

E'bert looks at Tasena for a moment, "Don't be late to class. Learn those knots, and salute. When in doubt, salute," said with a grumpy look towards the bowl, "And dragons are all peculiar brats."

Sacitca is about to answer W'rin when he leaves suddenly, and just exchanges a glance with Tasena. A'dan's movements go completely unnoticed by the perfumist, preoccupied as she is by the Weyrleader's departure and the words preceding it. E'bert's advice is met with raised eyebrows from the woman, and she glances at Tasena again. "Good to know, sir, but why do you call dragons that?" Her attention returns to her food as she waits to the answer to her curiosity, to polish it off quickly, if politely.

A'dan catches W'rin's command, but continues his momentum, standing at attention because —> Weyrleader leaving the table. "Yes, Sir," he agrees. There's a curious flatness to A'dan's reply. And since it will be up to him, as many of them will get it as possible. He folds himself into his seat and sets about eating his meal, ears trained down the table to the banter of the Candidates and recent-former-Candidate. He pauses in chewing at E'bert's description of dragons, thinking on it and then, nodding agreement and resuming chewing. He dabs his mouth with a napkin, looking down the table at the Candidates.

E'bert looks at A'dan for a moment, then glares back towards where he knows his own brown no longer is, "Speaking strictly for myself mind, it's because Karkath is a peculiar brat. He has," pause as he looks for the right way to explain, "Kar insists after a long day that he won't take me to our ledge until after I've bathed. He also has a habit of biting fence posts," a glance to A'dan again before E'bert continues, "When he was just shy of six months he decided that he was going to hunt his own meal. A blue generously took down the beast he was after, and he wound up with forktail. Trust me, that is not anything you want to have to deal with."

Tasena watches A'dan stand. And then sit. She again shares a look with Sacitca, then glances at E'bert as he explains. Meanwhile, she has finished her lunch and soaks up the last bit of gravy with her last crust of bread, then washes it all down with her third glass of water before she leans back. She studies the young brownrider for a couple seconds, then murmurs something about finding some fruit before heading out for the afternoon that is already stock full of more activities. Taking her plate and glass with her, she heads over toward the sideboard, catching up briefly with another candidate.

Sacitca murmurs something to Tasena before the other girl leaves, and after finishing up her own food, turns her attention to listening. Her klah has been all but forgotten, and she nods a few times in understanding as explanations follow. "No offense," she says after a moment, "but the first sounds simply like good hygiene. As for the rest of it, I do suppose I can understand, yes.." Her brow furrows briefly in thought. Then her klah is remembered, and she picks up the cup of it to finish it off, cooled though it is. "If you'll excuse me.." This is said to both of the remaining riders at the table. "But there are things I need to be attending to." As in the things that Candidates find themselves busy with on a daily basis. "It was nice seeing the both of you." She grabs her plate and glass, and will take them off to be taken care of before her next class or chore.

The other Candidates trickle away, off to chores and PT and other activities. A'dan sits back, relaxing his upright posture. Food's all but done. He watches the departing candidates with steady eyes, "I've got my work cut out for me, E'bert." He scratches his jaw and stares at his plate a while. "They are strange, aren't they?" Dragons. Sorta rhetorical. "You start your Dragonhealing training yet?"

E'bert shrugs, "I haven't managed to catch anyone, but I will," he asnwers, "I don't mind that Kar wants to keep things neat in our weyr. I just don't happen to think that a bath when dead tired is a good idea. It wouldn't kill that brat to let me get a little sleep before insisting on my bathing, would it?" rhetorical question returned, "I hope those two don't give you too much trouble," munch on his meal and blink a few times to keep from nodding. He's a busy busy boy, and it actually does show with the mild darkening under his eyes. He does sleep, really he does he's just really very busy and sometimes life just makes it feel like you don't get enough sleep.

Tasena passes Sacitca on her way back to the candidates' table and motions for those other two, who had been nudged aside by the weyrleader earlier, to get a move on. "Come on, guys. Time to get to class," she adds, waving them along. All three of them give the riders at their table another salute, then start at a good clip toward the bowl and its wealth of spring sunshine.

"Afternoon, Candidates," A'dan rumbles at the departing, with a crisp nod in lieu of a salute (seated as he is). "Kill, no." He shakes his head, "Good luck talking him out of it." A healthy dose of empathetic rue, there. With a few efficient swipes, the Assisstant Weyrlingmaster's meal is done. Water drained from his cup. He pushes the plate forward and leans back comfortably. He gives the young rider a close once-over. "You getting enough rest?" Rest for Candidates and Weyrlings was A'dan's favorite topics. Rest and hydration and courtesies. Well. Okay. Rest, hydration, courtesies, fitness and hand-to-hand combat. But that was it. Except… just kidding.

E'bert gives the departing candidates a nod, then a nod given to A'dan as he finishes his own meal. Gathers his dirty dishes, and clears them away before heading out to finish his day.

Well, E'bert wasn't under his purview any more. The senior rider nods a farewell at the strung out brownrider and makes a mental note to have one of the Dragonhealers seek him out. Standing, A'dan collects his flatware and dishes and, lunch accomplished, heads out to other duties. One of which did include bathing Narloth and there couldn't be better weather for it.

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