Who

D'wane, Rh'ysar, Va'os

What

With the barracks still occupied, it's time to unleash D'wane's plan! With Rh'ysar, Va'os and a few others to help!

When

It is noon of the nineteenth day of the seventh month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Inner Caverns, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 25 Mar 2018 04:00

 

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Inner Caverns

As straightforward as can be, the hallowed halls of Southern's innards are blessed with a prolific cultivation of wild glows, tended in a way to illuminate the valuted arches with warm light. The halls themselves are a mix of rough-hewn wall and carefully-carved architecture, stunning in contrast and beauty. All the passageways are well-kept, here, though certain paths show heavier wear: the corridors terminating in the baths, the latrines, and the main thoroughfare that moves through to the Living Caverns beyond.


It has been way to long since a certain group of refugees have taken up residence in Southern and any welcome they may have received has long since warn straight out. There have been guards placed on duty to the barracks 24/7 to make sure nobody else or any more supplies were going in, and trying to encourage folks to come, but no luck. Except for that one guard that seems to be winning in the dice game this shift. He's got all the luck. But their day is about to get a lot more exciting! What should grace the hallway except for D'wane and a train of a couple of Jaguar riders and several kitchen drudges. Plus a very, very, VERY concerned baker's assistance probably sent to spy on them by Ardstelle. For there are supplies in these men's arms. Some seem to be lugging what seems to be grills, others charcoal. One guy has some fans. And then others boxes and boxes of… stuff. "I think here's close enough." And so, D'wane is going to set his crates down right here.

“Y’know? I think this is a whole new level of cruel…” Va’os can be heard drawling that in a bemused tone. He’s bringing the drinks! Because why not? This is also largely D’wane’s plan so he’s leaving it to the Weyrsecond to orchestrate it. He’s still shaking off the illness… or whatever it is, that took him out. Now that he’s let his comment hang, he grins broad and crooked. “And I love it! Have I said that enough?” Setting down the bottles he’s dragged along in a safe spot, he’ll eye the Guards and that game of dice. Back, forth, back. “… good to see you’re all hard at work!”

Rh'ysar is just here to be the muscle, really. The bronzerider is carrying a couple of those boxes, trailing behind Va'os in the small pack of Jaguar riders. When they arrive at what appears to be their destination, he's quick to set those crates down with a grunt. "Think this'll work?"

D'wane puts on a brief display of hand to heart surprise. "Cruel? No, no, no, Va'os. This is generosity. Who wouldn't like a bit of bacon in the morning?" And considering the pure amount of supplies they have, they might be cooking the whole hog! As for Rhu's question, the taller man just shrugs. "Worth a shot. And if it doesn't, at least we had a 'wing bonding' activity'." Complete with finger quotes. And then since someone has finally got the first of the grills set up… "So which of these has the tinderbox in it?" Gotta get this show started somehow. The guards over there have paused their game of dice as this looks more interesting than possibly losing more marks to their cheating friend.

Va’os scoffs and merely ventures over to those crates of supplies. No one going to protest him just taking a peek, right? Okay, good. “Bacon, steaks… Right feast of meat you got ready here!” He’ll peer up at the taller Weyrsecond. Cruel! But he’s totally on board! Especially if it means he can take a cut (ha ha) of the finished cooked product(s). “I mean, if you guys were wanting a huge barbecue you just had to ask…” He shrugs, only to grin to Rh’ysar. “Did you have another plan? Cause if this doesn’t budge ‘em, we’re up a bonding exercise.” He smirks. “But back to square one.” To be honest, here!

It's so nice to D'wane to share his meat with everyone. Rh'ysar raises his brows, skepticism laced through the movement. "Haven't we had enough of those?" They're all bonded, right? BEST BROS. Still, he's not actually objecting to this little project, for all that he seems not to believe in its effectiveness. "I think I saw it in here." The tinderbox, that is. He gestures to one of the crates he was so recently hauling, cracking the lid before his attention shifts to Va'os. "Rotten fish?"

D'wane is a very generous fellow with his meat and we're definitely talking about the culinary sort, right? "I'll keep that in mind for once the weather turns decent." Because who doesn't love a good beach side barbeque? Once Rh'ysar points out the possible location of the tinderbox, one of the other guys grabs it and D'wane just gets to sorting one of those other crates and digging out some frying pans. In all the digging he may have missed a few things. "We're not cooking rotten fish!" although if they want to upgrade to chemical warfare, that's probably a close start.

Sure. “Culinary sort”! Va’os blinks as he thinks back. It’s a wonder no one hears gears grinding somewhere. “Can never have enough!” Which means he wasn’t keeping track. TOTALLY BONDED! There’s a brighter grin to D’wane and a nod. Better weather, got it! “This’ll do for now. Warmer and dry, that’s for sure!” They’re totally going to get yelled at later, won’t they? Something something fire hazard (but rock can’t burn, can it?)… Not that Va’os is concerned. He’s too busy making a vague gagging sound. “Come on, man! I just got my appetite back.” Don’t ruin it for him, Rh’ysar! “Not the worst idea though but… save it for last and drastic measures.” And make other people do it! He’ll help unpack another crate, in the meantime.

Dude, that's why they brought fans! Some random NPC is on fanning duty.

Of course we're talking about the culinary sort. "I wasn't talking about cooking rotten fish." Would that improve or worsen the smell? Rh'ysar follows Va'os's lead, assisting in crate unpacking while others set up the grills and prepare the area. Even with those helpful fans, they're probably going to get in trouble for this. Probably with Mayte. But at this point, that seems pretty much par for the course, so the bronzerider isn't overly worried about consequences. Besides, this won't fall on his head! "Sorry?" He doesn't sound particularly sorry for nearly spoiling Va'os's appetite. "Are we not to drastic measures yet? We should have combined the two." Throw some rotten fish in there and then grill up some bacon out here! Foolproof.

They'll only get in trouble if they don't succeed. Possibly. If it does, they might even get a thank you card, or at least everyone but D'wane might. He's too busy to think about weyrwomen holding grudges at the moment. There's some serious dubious eyebrow raising to give to Rh'ysar. "You're not allowed to cook." That pan, D'wane's going to confiscate it and give it to someone not mentioning cooking rotten fish and bacon at the same time. "Right now the idea is to tempt them out. There shouldn't have been any fresh supplies in there for over a sevenday by now. And if tempting doesn't work, then we can move on to rotten fish and whatever it is those tanners use to cure the hides and probably the herders got something foul to contribute as well if we need it…"

“And ruin perfectly good food!?” Va’os is on the same page as D’wane here, as he eyes Rh’ysar for his logic. Should he fear Mayte? So far, it’s hard to say. He was definitely afraid of Bailey! But would still pull shit like this regardless. Nose wrinkling, he’ll pull a face as he sets aside another package and straightens from crouching by one of the crates. “Ugh. If we get to the tanner part, can we use volunteers?” Not to mention they really WILL get it for the lingering stench that’d cause. Right? “Certain manures are nasty, if that’s what you’re aiming at?” It’s like he speaks from some vague knowledge. Starting shit, burning shit. Same thing, kind of? Heading over to where the alcohol is, since they’re all so BONDED, it shouldn’t be too surprising that Va’os just tosses one over to Rh’ysar. THINK FAST! D’wane’s will be more politely set within reach.

"Why do you continue to think that I'm speaking of cooking both at once? Or cooking the fish at all?" Rh'ysar returns that look Va'os gives him, eyeing the other man with equal skepticism. "We send the rotten fish in there and cook the meat here." Obviously. "I know of a few things that would drive anyone out with the smell." There are all kinds of fun scents out in the jungle, after all, and Rh'ysar seems only too happy to provide. It's a lucky thing that he's actually paying attention to Va'os, and sees that bottle coming before it can pass him by and smash upon the floor. He catches it with relative ease, tilting the bottle in the other man's direction in silent thanks. D'wane may have taken his pan away from him, but he can find other ways to make himself useful. Or he can just stand off to the side and drink — yeah, that's not a bad option.

"You were the one to say combine the two," D'wane's just going to point that out there, even if the wildling rider did actually just mean to combine bad smells in there to make the good bacon smells even more persuasive. Through certain scene magic, those grills are set up and pans are being handed over and heated up. The baker assistant still looks very nervous, but D'wane's got some bacon and he's going for it! Drinking and eventually eating bacon is definitely one of the better plans. "So, Va'os, if this doesn't work, should we give free reign to Rh'ysar with the smells? Within reason. Eventually we'll have to use the barracks again."

Va’os smirks and retorts with a mock exasperated voice after Rh’ysar’s explanation, “Why didn’t you say so?” He’s just being an ass, don’t mind him! Whether or not he should be helping, the Weyrleader seems content to just step aside and crack open his bottle… which is tipped back in return to the bronzerider. D’wane’s suggestion is met with serious (really!) thought and a frown to go with it. “Don’t see why not? That good by you?” Hey, gotta ask the source, right? He’ll glance sidelong to Rh’ysar. “Besides, I’m kind of curious now…” Just how bad can it get? Taking a swig from the bottle, he’ll glance back to the setup and the bounty to be cooked. “Gonna have to give them props though, if they’re tenacious enough to resist this!”

"I did say so, just now," Rh'ysar answers flatly, as though this is at all what Va'os meant. He opens his own bottle, taking a quick sip as he parks himself up against the nearest wall, just out of the way of those manning the grills. "The next candidates can clean it," he suggests with a faint smile. D'wane isn't the only one who can be cruel. "I'm happy to assist the Weyr in getting rid of unwanted guests." Especially after last time, when he made the mistake of advocating for their intruders. He won't be doing anything so foolish as trusting a stranger again. "What if they only send out one or two at a time?"

Once he's got some bacon on the pan, D'wane cracks open his beer and takes a sip. He's watching that bacon intently as burnt bacon would completely ruin BOTH parts of his plan. "Whatever you do, you'll have to be the one to tell the Headwoman you intend to leave it to the next group of candidates to clean." That's an appropriate check on just how disgusting Rhu might go, right? Nothing scarier than a headwoman on a war path. As for if they only trickle out, D'wane shrugs. "One or two at a time beats none which is what we've been getting. Anybody even know how many are even in there anyway?" He's probably got a report with a guess somewhere, but maybe Va'os actually read it. The bacon is beginning to sizzle and the smells are starting to fill up the hallway. No stirring yet from the barracks, but hopefully soon!

“Enough to be a problem!” Va’os’ answer is either an answer or… he hasn’t read that report (in awhile). “Do numbers matter at this point? We need those barracks! If there’s a dozen, fifteen or more… in the end it’s all the same. They’re in there.” He points with his bottle. “And we need them out here.” He gestures vaguely over his shoulder and then shrugs. “So we’ll see who’s plan is the best and wins!” When did this become a competition? A snicker escapes him, along with a sympathetic look to Rh’ysar when the Headwoman is brought up. “Good luck with that, eh?”

"How long can it be until the next group of candidates?" It seems Rh'ysar is expecting another gold flight any day now, because he seems unconcerned by D'wane's threat. The question of number is met with a shrug, because this isn't something the wildling has been particularly concerned with — that's for Weyrleaders and Weyrseconds to worry about. He's merely here to come up with ideas pertaining to terrible smells. "This plan might work." If they can smell that bacon. And if they haven't found another way to secret supplies into the barracks. "Maybe just send a few dozen firelizards in there to dive at them. That should help." And it's less stinky.

D'wane has been expecting a gold flight any day for a while now. It's been what, a turn or more without a clutch on the sands? But Rhiscorath and Zymuraith seem to have their own plans about that. He just shrugs and begins to pull some of the finished bacon off the pan to make room for more bacon. Beer drinking in between tasks. The smell might not be enough for luring the adults out just yet, but some younger and more curious heads are beginning to peek out the barracks door. "We got time." And supplies. So for a while, they're going to cook and drink and eat. And if it doesn't work, then Rhu's got Plan B covered!

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