Neryk, Virgilio


Neryk thought to have a peaceful lunch with quiet company. Then he got drafted.


It is noon of the first day of the third month of the twelfth turn of the 12th pass.


Igen Weyr - Pens

OOC Date 09 Oct 2017 07:00


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Igen Weyr - Pens

Here thar be pens, in a variety of shapes and sizes fit for all manner of beastie. The largest pens are those housing plump herdbeast for human or draconic consumption. A few of the smaller pens are unoccupied, though there are remnants of their former occupants still evident on ground and fence. The actual pens themselves are made solidly constructed, proof of Igen's resilience in improvements. In each pen there are troughs for feed and water, and they appear again by the stableside.

It’s a goat.

Neryk studies the thing for a moment, chewing his own lunch as the goat seems to chew on a nothingness. The goat must have something it is chewing on, right? Hmmm. A leaf of something green is removed from the sandwich and held out to the goat without comment. Neryk’s fair of firelizards watching the movement of the leaf toward the animal with varying degrees of distrust and interest. Why was Neryk giving away food to this thing? None of them would be willing to eat the green themselves, but the idea of it going to waste to some low lif-

Or not.

The goat sniffs and accepts the leaf.

Neryk smiles and takes another bite out of his sandwich. “Good Goat.”

The goat half-lids her eyes and pauses in that chewing to burp up something that smells distinctly like greenery. Masticated greenery. She seems to consider this and then resumes chewing, though another look is cast toward Neryk’s sandwich. But then someone enters the outside paddock where the goats - and evidently Neryk - are sunning themselves in the chill winter’s air. Goats must be solar-powered, because when the sand is not blowing, they are almost always out in the Rukbat’s light. Even the wind doesn’t seem to bother them; their pendelous ears flop and flip and they seem to doze on, unperterbed. However, this particular person - a big man, brawny and beareded and hairy - enters and the goat near Neryk, and all her brethern, rise as if they are One, suddenly bawling in earnest NEED. These creatures who, to a one, have mostly ignored person, dragon, feline, runner… Have only really heeded lettuce-wielding former riders and canines, which earn a long and distrustful stare. But this man - he is evidently the Pied Piper of Caprine Kind, for he is, now, mobbed. A fierce-looking fellow, with bright blue eyes and a few visible scars on his hands and arms bare despite the weather, he pauses to scan the herd, and absently drops those hands into a competing sea of heads that must touch and nuzzle and crowd the fellow. Two green lizards dance into view, immediately scanning for male lizards. Hello, boys!

Neryk will start to offer another piece from the sandwich when he is so thoroughly upstaged by the giant of a man. As he is abandoned by his new friend, Neryk’s attention will turn up to the man, another bite taken out of his sandwich. The sudden space around him is a surprise, as is the speed at which such graceless animals could move when they wanted to. Okay, perhaps some were rather graceful in a ungainly sort of way, floating along as legs propel them forward in a seamless flow to the man. He is a magnet. Clearly. A Goat-Magnet. Neryk’s fair of lizards might not take much notice of the incredible summoning powers of the man, but they will turn to the new arrival of greens. Neryk’s eldest lizards, blue Castor and bronze Pollux are up in the air in a moment, greeting the lovely ladies as his younger two, the shy blue Alzirr and the young gold Seren, only look on with interest.

“Alright then.” The man has a Keroon drawl, and he finally dips forward to secure the collar of one of the goats, “Let’s have a look at you.” Murmured, since the man is obviously just talking, and he’s not exactly expecting the goat to respond to him. It’s a big creature, but stands sedately as Virgilio comes to draw his hand down the goat’s leg to pick up a foot and inspect it. This task is made somewhat difficult by the fact that even though the blonde man is some sort of God of Caprines, even Gods are not allowed to handle feet. The goat leaps around, making a great show of effort in trying to free herself. While Virgilio can lift a foot and hold a goat, he cannot also examine the bottom of the foot with the ease he’d like to. So he drops the food and looks around. “Hey, you. Doin’ anything, lad?” Virgilio doesn’t ask why Neryk is eating in the paddock. “Come hang on to this old lady, so I can have a look at her foot?”

“Am I trespassing?” It was always good to check these things, and Neryk wasn’t too good at checking before he used these sorts of out of the way locations, but he tried. The sandwich is put aside, Seren and Alzirr still clinging to his shoulders as he starts trying to wade through the goats toward the man, “I can try to help.” Wow, this is a lot harder than Neryk thought. It wasn’t like these were small animals, and in their adoration of the blonde man, they didn’t seem to appreciate or even notice Neryks attempts to get through to help. When finally reaching his goat, Neryk will hesitate, looking over the animal uneasily. Animals don't always like him, though these ones did seem to so far, he hadn’t pushed his luck. “Sorry sir? Um, hang on to her how so? It would seem to me that it would be rude to tug on ears and horns and she does seem pretty opposed to the idea of her foot being looked at.” Neryk didn’t have much history with animals, apart from his helping in the stables, but really, a caprine is not a runner.

“Don’t be messin’ with her horns. They don’t much approve of that.” Virgilio cracks a slight grin. “Get ahold of the collar there, and draw it up just under her neck and try to be keepin’ her head up against you. Like this.” Virgilio demonstrates and the goat, while looking mildly put out that her person is hauling about on her, tolerates the exercise. Virgilio offers the collar over and no sooner has Neryk the goat collar in hand, then he’s diving back down to grab ahold of that leg and haul it up. Immediately another goat’s head gets in his way, as that goat, a black one with white ears, seems determined to see what Virgilio is looking at, “Daft gal!” He tries to shove that goat away, gently, and get a good look at the first goat’s foot. Another goat’s head comes in the way, and Virgilio drops the foot, straightening. “Let’s be takin’ her out of the fence.” He gestures to the gate, nearby. “Just lead her along. I’ll run interference with these gals.”

Neryk does as he is told, but the moment that the foot is up, with all the related interest in other goats, this one will start to pull against prostent. She was not pleased by her person holding her like this, and she is far less pleased by a stranger. Neryk is not a big person and the jerk has him swaying, almost loosing his grip on the animal. “I’m sorry.” The words are quiet, to the goat herself as he struggles against her, however as Virgilio speaks, Neryk will nod quickly, dropping her head to just use the collar and maneuver her and himself through the crowd to the fence. How could creatures that were so docile only a few moments before now be so insistent that Virgilio pay attention to them? Neryk was astonished, but the fence will be reached, the doe held against it the best he can, not well granted, given how quickly the doe’s patience is running out, but he will try.

Virgilio is there, and the gate is opened, and he’s using his own body to both block the oncoming rush of goats who ALL MUST LEAVE NOW IF VIRGILIO AND THAT OTHER GOAT ARE GOING, and to allow Neryk to lead the chosen goat out. Then Virgilio has the gate shut and he’s back up by the doe’s head, drawing his fingers down her nose and letting her nibble on his fingers for a moment. “Now then, lass. Just let me have a look at that foot, and we’ll put you back with your friends. Lad, if you’ll get ahold of her again?” Virgilio will wait to see if Neryk situates the collar right, before he dives back down again to get that leg.

Neryk will fumble at the maneuver, but he and the chosen goat will escape without too much of an issue. The Collar again in place, the doesn’t head against his chest in an attempt to keep her subdued as her person looks at the foot. His lizards trill around him, Pollux and Castor temporarily back to check in on their person. It seems that Seren and Alzirr have things under control here. Good. The pair will return to their flirting. Neryk’s efforts against the doe do succeed in keeping her relatively still, though Neryk himself does not feel very still. In fact, it feels very much like he is being thrown around like a doll. How is it this creature has so much power to her?! Neryk is not a big person, but he’s not a terribly small one either. Yet here he is, clinging to the goat’s head, hoping desperately that whatever in a goat foot that needs looking at can happen a tad bit faster.

The flash of a knife comes into Virgilio’s hand, just that fast, and he secures the foot against his leg before applying the knife to it with a few quick motions. Then he’s straightened. He was, actually, very quick, but such situations lend themselves to the drawing of time into a long thin neverending thread of indeterminable length. “All good. Thanks. We can put her back now.” The knife - possibly the same one he eats with - is wiped across his tunic and then slipped away into some invisible spot on his person. “Same thing. I’ll be pushin’ the other ladies back and you’ll haul this one in. Likely, it’ll be easier in than out. Thank you.”

Neryk just stares at him, gasping as he lets the doe’s head loose again, keeping a tight grip on the collar. Mutely, the young man will nod, and do as he is told. It is not easier in than out. This doe is less than willing to do anything Neryk wants her to, and the moment she is free, a good bit of distance is put between her and them. How dare they violate her like that! How dare/ they! Neryk only blinks, still not the one being mobbed by goats, and slips back over to his sandwhich. What sandwich? There was a sandwich here? Once upon a time? Perhaps. Nah. No sandwich here, sorry Neryk. Perhaps you will be forgiven for your part in that indignity just a moment ago, but you won’t get a sandwich.

In time, there will be either forgiveness or perhaps Caprines, like Dragons, have faulty memories. Perhaps time simply fades into nothingness for them, and the friends that they once had turn to shadows, nameless and formless, in their minds. Perhaps. Or perhaps this goat will hold a grudge for the rest of her life and Neryk is a marked man. One never knows, with goats. “There now, not so hard, was it?” This, after Virgilio had to bodily battle a seething sea of goats who all, in some sort of hive-brain, had determined that they MUST BE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GATE, as Virgilio, Neryk and the other goat were heading in. But, the consolation prize is that Virgilio is back in the gate. He becomes, again, the center of attention. This time, the man flashes a rare grin to Neryk, “Were but they be females of human persuasion, and me, not married. Most female attention I’ve had since… This morning.” Virgilio has no complaints about his wife, nope! He offers his hand to Neryk, nevermind two taller goats inspecting the hand, “Virgilio. I am the cheesemaker in the Bazaar. Thanks, lad. Come on by sometime … If you give me your name, I’ll leave it with my wife and she’ll have sommat for you.” His green lizards, seeming excellent at ignoring the boys once they have male attention, each claim one of Virgilio’s shoulders.

Neryk looks around one last time for the sandwich, perhaps a hope that the thing might still exist, as in his mind, it still should, “Awe, no problem sir! I’m happy to help!” The smile is returned, Neryk’s two lizards still trying to catch one of those lovely eyes if they could. “Neryk. It’s a pleasure to meet you and your little ladies, no need for anything, it was, um, fun.” There is a bit of hesitation in this last but, after all, he lost a sandwich and spent a hell of a long time being thrown around by a creature half his size. However, Neryk’s smile will return, bright, “One of my neighbors highly recommends your cheese though, your shop is right to the side from the entrance, right? I think I’ve heard the name.” ALthough, like the goats, Neryk’s memory is a faulty thing. “Perhaps give an extra bit to Miss Windsor next time she is around? That would be good enough for me!” Not that Neryk usually took payment for help, as he helped whenever he could, but this was a nice neighbor who liked this nice man’s cheese, so it was a win for everyone, right?

“And,” Virgilio drolls, as if speaking to his wife, “This nice young man’s name was ‘Miss Windsor’, so be sure to give her a bit more when she’s around next, my dearest.” One brow quirks up and Virgilio grins, with a nod. “If that’s what’s suitin’ you, then. But it’s a bit of a help. I hate tyin’ ‘em to the fence. They get good and insulted. Must ask, though. Do you always eat out there with the goats? They’re prone to helpin’, whatever you’re doing.” The green firelizards are summarily ignoring Neryk’s two. They are interested - both - in the shy blue.

Alzirr will hide. Goodness, both? The little form will curl around Neryk’s neck, head pressed directly under his chin where he will peer out at the two. Pollux will continue to flutter about the two like a lovesick puppy, Castor is offended. Why would anyone go for Alzirr? He’s barely a respectable shade of blue! Of all the indignities happening today! This. Is. The. Worst. And Castor is gone, off to sulk somewhere or find some greens who appreciate him for the masterpiece that he is. “Oh! Sorry, I’m Neryk, Sir! And really, I am happy to help, it’s no problem. I don’t eat here often, just sometimes. I was sorta in the area and had the time.” One hand waves vaguely toward the goats, his head slightly higher than usual to compensate for Alzirr’s attempts to hide. “They have a way of looking perfectly content with everything. It’s something I aspire to manage.”

“Well, they seem happy with their jobs. Which is either makin’ milk or makin’ kids, dependin’ on the time of turn. I’m glad they’re mostly over the dragons, too. Was causin’ all sorts of ruckus, every time one of them greens went up.” He muses, then shakes his head, gaze drawing over the rest of the herd with habitual awareness. “You got yourself a craft, lad? You seem a mite old to be just sittin’ about with a pile of goats. If you’re lookin’ for a job, I could use a hand now and again. Pay’s mostly in cheese, though. Or meat, when we’re jerkin’ the flesh.” -Making jerky of goatmeat.

“Um, no sir, no craft of sorts. I just sorta… . do whatever.” Neryk will nod again at this, the reality of his current existence not one that he liked pondering or doing much about, attempts at either thing tended to increase his already large drinking habit. “I like to be helpful when I can, and if you don’t mind me hanging around, I’d be happy to help you when I can!” Given the ridiculous amount of free time Neryk had, and the general lack of need for money or other normal essentials, he didn’t much need cheese or meat either. But hey, he had neighbors. “I like your goats and if they don’t mind me, it’s all the more reason to like them.” He grins, hands moving to his pockets, “Abouts when would you be needing help? I can’t promise much, um, well, timely-ness, but I can try to drop by and lend a hand when able.”

“There’d be always something to do.” Virgilio affirms. “Just stop by. I’ve a cave, as well. Likely as not your lizards could find it. I make most of the cheese there, and we age it. Too hot in the summer for proper cheese-making; too cold in the winter. But the rock, it moderates the temperature.” With that, and a nod, Virgilio glances over toward the Bazaar proper,”Right then. I just popped by to check on her foot. Nice to meet you.” Being civil, is Virgilio! Tyzana would be so proud, if she saw!

Neryk nods. He doesn’t know anything about cheese-making, but that does sound good and well. Having a cave. Sure. Yeah. That. “Yes! Nice to meet you too! It was Mister Virgilio, right?” Neryk smiles, he probably has some place to be right now too, if he knew where that was and remembered why he needed to be there. It would come to him, it usually did. Or not. “Have a nice day! Fair winds!” And the young man will be over the fence and scooping up his sack. Off to find out where he was supposed to be right now.

The cheesemaker will stride briskly back to his shop, commune with his wife about this odd young man he’d met, before he will once again take residence in his cheese cave, lit by glows, with today’s activity scheduled to be cheese-waxing…

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