Who

Nathanael, Rhydian

What

… they sewed what shut?!

When

It is late night of the first day of the eighth month of the first turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Southern Weyr Stores

OOC Date

 

nathanael_default.jpg rhydian%205.jpg


Stores

A vast and sprawling cavern, the main storage area of the weyr is well-tended by the loving and stern hands of those who oversee the bounty stored within. Depending on the time of day, it is a place of illuminated neatness, stacks of dry goods and foodstuffs labeled clearly… or it is a place of werelight and stygian darkness that taunts those who would dare challenge the depths thereof.


It's late. Very, very, very late. Late enough that all apprentices really should be tucked into their beds. However, one fourteen year-old is not tucked in snugly. Rather, he is down here in the stores, a single glow in hand. He has found a crate and set it before one rack of shelves and using the extra height it gives him, reaches into a basket on the top shelf.

Late night means nothing to a naturally nocturnal crafter like Rhydian; his body clock's so screwed up it probably doesn't know the difference between sun up and sun down, anyway. Fuelled by a mug of klah, which he carries in one hand, the Starcrafter enters the stores with a glowbasket held high, trotting down the stairs carefully so as not to spill his drink. The light of that single glow up ahead catches his attention, and he pads up towards Nathanael, not bothering to be sneaky in the slightest.

Except, the out after cerfew Nathanael isn't really listening. Instead he's mumbling under his breath, ""… t' … … way t' … … … … … leavin' … 'lone! … m' fault … … … work … … … … more free … … …" As he yanks that basket down off the shelf with a bit more force than is typical for the cheerful youngling. The sudden weight causes him to move back suddenly, dropping off that crate of his. He catches himself on his feet a bit awkwardly before turning to finally see Rhydian. "Sir!" A long frown cuts across his face, "'m sorry sir, I'll be gettin' back t' 'e dorms real quick, jus' had a problem with m' beddin' 'n was fixin' it."

The look Rhydian fixes Nathanael - bemused, and disbelieving - says he really doesn't believe whatever the kid's excuse is, but, it also suggests that he really can't be bothered about it either way, either. He snorts, amused, and shrugs, holding his glow basket out to try and get a better look at whatever's in the basket that's worth getting caught for. "I'm, ah, not gonna tell anyone," he reassures the kid, with a wink. "Used to sneak out myself. Um… but what have you got?"

Perhaps he'll believe Nathanael when he looks into that basket. For there, folded neatly, are clean and patched linens for an apprentice cot. "I did no' want t' be botherin' no 'un sir," He'll skirt around why the abrupt need to change out his bedding in the middle of the night, and instead start to pull out the linen's he'll need now that it seems that the Journeyman isn't going to hurry him back to the dorms without being able to explain. "'n I kned where they was so…" Back up onto that crate he hops, then using tip toes pushes the basket onto the top shelf.

"Mmhrm." There's disappointment in Rhydian's tone when he realises that there's nothing more exciting in there than bedclothes. "I would've, ah, had spares kept nearby if I'd, um, known I'd be pulling a, ah, prank. To save from getting in trouble for being caught out." Perhaps there's a naughty streak in the studious Starcrafter's history? He sips from his klah, raising his light so Nate can see more clearly for putting the basket away. "Ah… why did you only bring one glow in?"

Nathanael turns and blinks down at the journeyman, standing taller than him thanks to the extra height of the crate. "Prank? Ain't pullin'…" except, he pauses himself. The journeyman had just handed him a way to explain his need for bedclothings that did not require him to do anything but remain silent and nod. So that's what Nathanael does. "I wasn't wantin' t' bother no'un, 'n 'e Headman keep e'ery thin' so clean ye do no' really be needin' much t' find ye way 'round down here."

Rhydian's nose wrinkles, and he uses his klah mug to push his glasses up his nose as he shrugs in agreement. "Yeah, I suppose that's about right, if you, uh, know your way around the stores." Given that he has a big bright glowbasket, he probably doesn't fall into that category. "Do you happen to know where the, er, writing stores are? Quills, ink? I've run out, and, hah, I don't want to bother my masters, either."

"Oh aye!" Nathanael jumps down from his crate having shoved that basket back into place, then gathers up his linens and the small glow of his own. "O'er here." And with that he'll trot off down the row, and disappear around a corner, just assuming that the journeyman will follow.

Follow he does, longer strides making it easy enough for Rhydian to keep up with the little apprentice. "So, uh, why did you really need new sheets, kid?" He's curious, and has all the tone of a not quite reprimanding big brother as he holds his glowbasket up high, shedding more light on their path than Nathanael's single glow can manage. "If it's, haha," that's an awkward, embarrassed sort of laugh, "something you ought to speak to a, er, Healer about, then, uh, you don't have to say anything."

"Ain't gotten anythin' more'un brusised yet sir," Nathanael will reassure the starcrafter, not quite realizing that it probably isn't the most reassuring comment what-so-ever. "Jus' got fouled 'n was needin' a change sir. Nothin' big." He'll step forward a few more paces before slowing down and raising his glow to scan along the shelf. "They're right 'bout…."

Fouled. Right. Because that's exactly the sort of word in the context to make Rhydian blush and wish he'd never asked. "Ah. Well. Alright. Uh… oh look, there they are." Quills! The distraction of writing implements is definitely a welcome one, and he pulls the container out so he can pick one that he likes. "You know, um, the, er, Healers can help with that. My little brother, he used to… well, you know. They fixed it for him."

Nathanael drifts backwards a bit, caught in his own musing for a moment on what 'fouled sheets' actually means. He starts listening again about halfway though the Journeyman's comments about his brother. "Ye brother was, uh," again he comes to a halt. Nathanael doesn't want to be caught out telling, and so shifts what he's saying. "findin' things 'n his bed? What was no' suppose t' be there? How'd they fix it?"

"By, uh," Rhydian's blushing furiously, embarrassed as heck by their conversation, and yet… "sewing his, um, arse shut." He can't help it. He picks out a quill, running the feathered end under the tip of his nose as he turns to see Nathanael's reaction.

…. Silence from the littlest sea crafter. Silence. Nathanael's eyes blink, then again, and once more before he can even begin to formulate an answer. "He was gettin' picked on 'n they sewed his arse, that ain't helpful! E'en I'm knowin' that 'un!" The words slip out from Nathanael's suprised mouth before he can recall them and put a check upon them.

Oh. OH. Oh, well that's a whole different kettle of fish. Rhydian blushes more deeply, trying to hide his grin by flicking the tip of the quill over his mouth. "Er… yes? Sure. Why not?"

"No' meanin' no disrespect sir," Nathanael begins this very very careful and respectufl like, "but that's just daft. 'n if'n that show them healer's're helpin' them 'pprentice, 'm glad t' be sea 'n no' Healer!" Firmness of all his youth is put into his words there.

"My brother's a, uh, Seacrafter." Rhydian's smirk fades a little when he realises his joke's well and truly over, at which point he backtracks a little. "Uh… hey. Did you say you were, um, getting picking on?" Now he's more serious, even if he doesn't look it with a quill stuck behind his ear to free up his hands as he goes about on a parchment search.

"Pa'd n'er do that!" Nathanael edges away from the starcrafter just a touch. Just in case operations were something which could be passed by touching. Nathanael ponders a way to side step the question from the journeyman, and finds it easily enough when he seems to go on looking for something else. "Are ye lookin' f'r somethin' else sir?"

Rhydian fixes Nathanael with a look; he's quite capable of pulling off 'stern', especially with his glasses positioned just so on his nose. "Only an answer, apprentice." And he can pull rank, too. The Starcrafter has his quill and parchment, and leaves them on the shelf beside his glowbasket as he sips from his klah mug.

Oh darn. Nathanael squirms a bit, but he's been raised that when a ranker gives that tone of voice it's best to just respond. "Aye, got a couple've senior 'pprentices what are havin' some disagreemtns with me." There, an answer, but vauge. Sky blue eyes are glued to the floor as bright blond hair goes to cast Nathanael's face into darkness.

"Huh." Rhydian looks thoughtful over the rim of his klah mug, which is held just an inch or so below his lips, within easy drinking reach. "And, ah, you've not told anyone. You want to keep it quiet." The journeyman scratches thoughtfully at the stubble on his cheek, taking a sip of his klah before lowering the mug to look properly at Nate. "Why not?"

Nathanael will continue to squirm under that gaze. Finally his eyes will flick upwards, looking through blond strands. "Ain't gonna do no'un good. Raya'd jus' be tellin' 'um I was bein' clumsy again, 'n then be gettin' more tricky. Jus' gotta avoid 'im for a few more months. Can I be tellin' ye a secret?" Nathanael looks around.

"Raya." The name is unfamiliar to Rhydian, but he's going to try and remember it. "Seacraft? Or, er…?" Another craft? The Reachian journeyman doesn't look impressed with whoever he is and whatever craft he belongs to. "You, ah, don't have to put up with anything, kid. Report him. And, yeah. Sure." Aren't they sharing a secret already?

"Sea," Nathanael will nod once, confirming the guess of the Star Crafter. "He ain't done anythin' too bad. Jus' pushin' 'n shovin, 'n puttin' things in m' bed." Like tonight. Nathanael hesistates on the secret. "Well, see, Pa jus' got offered a Cap'n knot, so we ain't gonna be 'round much longer. Mayhap four months at most. So… 's no real big deal, 'cuz I'm gonna be gone soon. Ain't told no'un, tho' 'e master's 're all knowin."

Whether he's done nothing too bad or not, Rhydian doesn't seem inclined to let it slip. "That's still outside of apprentice rules," he states, assuming that the same is true for whatever craft. Maybe he's wrong! When the secret's spilled, though, he nods. "Uh-huh. Right. But that's still months that you've got to, uh, put up with that Raya's behaviour. It's not right. Not acceptable." He shakes his head. "If, ah, you don't report it, I'm obliged to."

"No, sir, please." Nathanael does finally look all the way up, brushing the air aside and allowing the crystal blue to settle. "Really, just ain't figured out how t' be explain' to them that I ain't lookin' to upstage 'em or nothin'. 'n if ye're reportin' them, 's just gonna be gettin' worse, 'cuz they'll have t' be sneakier."

"But if they're, ah, really bothering you, then they'll be transferred, or something - right? Or, uh, put on a ship?" They are Seacrafters, after all! Rhydian doesn't look happy with the lack of options ahead of him. "Do you, er, want to keep putting up with it?" He can't believe he's having to ask such a thing. "We can stop it."

Nathanael scuffs at the floor, calling attention to his perfectly bare feet. "They ain't on m' same ship. Jus' in 'e dorms 'n duties on shore…" He trails off and hitches a shoulder a bit in a resoundingly noncommital shrug. "Ain't got no other choice, 'n respectul sir… I ain't sure ye'll could be stoppin' him."

Rhydian hrmphs, crossing his arms over his chest, still holding his klah mug. "Why don't you, er, think we could stop him? There are ways. I stopped my dorm bullies when I was an apprentice by turning them in."

"'cuz he's smart." The percieved disapproval in the Journeyman's voice causes Nate's eyes to hit the floor again. He doesn't do getting into trouble very well, mostly becasue it really isn't something which he has to deal with very often. His arms tighten on the linens, hugging them tightly. "'n, mayhap I can be talkin' him 'round. Ye know, afore gettin' him in trouble."

"No-one who's truly smart will bully anyone else." Rhydian sighs, then shrugs. "Fine. Speak with him. And I'm going to have a couple of apprentices that I know watching for him. If they, er, see anything, they'll have orders to report it, Nathanael." He picks up a second quill to join the one that's still tucked behind his ear, grabs his parchment and glowbasket, and signals that it's time to go. "C'mon. I'll, er, I'll walk you back. Can't get in trouble if you're, ah, with me, can you?" Since he's more senior, and all.

Nathanael lets out a slight sigh of relief that Rhydian has agreed to let it go for now. A mental note is made to warn Raya about the extra watchers, not even considering that the older teen might not take it like that. "Thank'e sir, really ain't meanin' t' be causin' trouble." He brightens visibly as they head towards the stairs that lead upwards and into the kitchen area. "Ye know, ma'am Ardstelle got them breakfast rolls already made… ye put jus' a touch've sugar 'n cinn-a-mon on 'em…" he continues to talk food up and inwards to the kitchen.

"We'll make a detour," Rhydian says warmly - keenly, too. Who doesn't want hot sweet buns? "Hey, uh, Nathanael? I keep spare sheets in my room." Along with the occasional greenrider and mountains of research and random tools. "Come to me next time so you, uh, don't risk getting in trouble, ok?"

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