Evening time in the Weyr and those not on some late duty are gathering in the Living Caverns to socialize and feed themselves after a long day. Masterfully planned to admit folks in waves it's not currently too busy, though notably still lively, and the kitchen staff have recently refreshed the food offerings. Roheis finds herself having just completed her shift and settling down with a plate of food at one of the lesser populated tables, the lump of awkward limbs in the shape of some large avant garde statement necklace moving about to reveal itself to be a young bronze firelizard, squeaking incredulously at being shifted.

There's a crash from the direction of the caverns, followed by a muffled, indignant shout and then the shriek of a dozen small children being released ALL AT ONCE. Yes, that's right, the children are free and decending upon the Living Caverns to seek out familiar parental faces. Following on their heels is Osarlio, who doesn't even spare them a second glance once they're off and running. He's wearing a bucket upturned on his head as he makes his way to the table that just happens to include Roheis, inviting himself into conversation without waiting for permission. "Hey, are you going to eat that?" That's asked of her nearest neighbor, before his attention falls on her. "What about you? That looks good, can I have some?" He's already reaching out to try to snag something off of her plate as he speaks.

Roheis startles at the sudden cacophony of children, eyes darting up and searching for any immediate danger, or more likely spills, she's going to need to deal with post-haste. Instead, she's greeted by Sir Bucket. Seeing that his meal is likely to be threatened the little bronze 'lizard descends her arm and flares his wings, chirping indignantly at this foul interloper! If he were full grown it might be mildly threatening, but he's perhaps only a few sevens old and still tiny and all limbs. "Sorrel. No," Roheis chides gently, looking Osarlio up and down with polite curiosity. "You are welcome to get your own," she indicates the tables laden with food with one hand while quietly sliding her own plate away with the other.

"Woah, sorry, my man," Osarlio replies quickly as that bronze takes issue with his potential family-style eating arrangement. Both hands are held up in surrender. "No, it's cool. The little man wants to protect his food, I get that." He totally gets that. So instead, he's just going to bother her neighbor again, who looks like he's about finished - or maybe just wants to avoid Osarlio. Whatever the truth is, bucket-head ends up with a plate of leftovers, and cheerfully picks up the other man's fork to begin scarfing it down. "That's okay," he says after a moment, speaking around a mouthful of food. "I'll go get some later. Second course!"

If there's such a thing as being politely horrified that's Roheis in a nutshell after observing all this. It's not overtly on her face but in the raise of the brow and the slightly elevated volume of her voice. "Well then! That sounds like a plan. At least nothing is going to waste?" Mollified that his food is no longer in direct threat little Sorrel settles in but his eyes are still on this man who either he doesn't trust, or is surreptitiously watching to learn from. "Do you really need the headwear to eat?" Roheis queries, tapping her dark brow by way of indication. Whether or not either of them have noticed, wearing a bucket on one's head definitely draws attention.

Waste not, want not! And even if you did want it, Osarlio isn't going to waste it. He's scarfing down the remains of that plate, while it seems the few other people at the table are either guarding their own plates more zealously or finding somewhere else to sit. Maybe they'll leave their plates behind! "The wha-" He reaches up mid-sentence to push the bucket back as it threatens to slide over his eyes, and it's as though a glowlight just went on. "Oh! I forgot I was wearing this." He laughs over his own foibles, no trace of embarrassment to be found. "We were fighting the Tunnelsnake Monster, we needed protection."

"Ah," and there's the hint of understanding in that short single syllable. She really should have known considering the pack of children but she's still getting used to these alien Weyr customs. "Was it a glorious battle at least?" Roheis is no less horrified but the tell-tale sign of amusement tugs at her lips as she's finally able to tuck into her own food, pointedly ignoring any lingering stares or whispered conversations. Clearly she's above such things, especially when talking about such serious matters as the Tunnelsnake Monster.

"Oh yeah, it was the most glorious," Osarlio answers with genuine enthusiasm. That first plate of leftovers has already been demolished, and he's quick to reach for the next scraps left behind. "We had it cornered and we were going to go in for the kill," he drops his voice theatrically, as though relaying some epic tale, "but then Liynda said she was hungry, and then we realized we were all hungry, and so we decided to come back and fight it another day with snacks." He appears utterly oblivious to anything anyone might be saying about him, too wrapped up in fantastical tales and conveniently reachable food.

"Good thinking," Roheis admits after she's considered this status report. Speaking of hungry…a little bronze someone chirps quietly and is immediately rewarded with a morsel of food from her plate, stifling any escalating noise from that avenue. "Snacks are always a good thing to have on hand. And with eggs about to be on the Sands any day now we can't be having a Tunnelsnake Monster lurking about causing problems now can we?" A light chuckle escapes she-of-the-polite-horror and she blinks, clearly surprised at her own reaction.

Around another mouthful, Osarlio directs his next words to Roheis' firelizard companion. "I feel you, little guy." The hunger is real, and it seems Osarlio has one of those neverending pits for a stomach. "I'm so tired…" A longing look is given toward the real food, which is just so. far. away. "Man, next time I'm just bringing a whole bag full of snacks. Snack Bag!" This last is shouted excitedly, as though it's somehow a brilliant name. "That would be pretty bad, right? We don't want any Tunnelsnake Monsters eating the eggs. I should tell the kids that. Maybe we should go hunting on the sands!"

Sorrel is all too happy to be acknowledged, cocking his head to the side in consideration. Slowly inching away from his human like a feline on the hunt he edges closer to Osarlio's plate in hopes of making off with a snack of his own. "Snack. Bag.' Roheis tests each word out individually. At least she didn't jump at his exclamation this time but she can't help but to see how many eyes are on them /now/. "I…wouldn't recommend that," she tacks on hastily. "Maybe they could check the candidate barracks? It'd be nice to know they're monster free before I have to go in there to clean and organize everything." Redirect!

"Snack Bag," Osarlio agrees, waving his hands to give the worlds a little razzle-dazzle. He's blithely unaware of the fact that he's making a fool of himself. "Here you go, my man," he offers, scooting a few scraps of meat toward Sorrel with that fork he stole off of someone else. (This is how the next plague starts.) "Yeah, they definitely have to check the barracks too." Sorry, Roheis, he hasn't let go of that idea yet. "We've got to check everywhere. You never know where they're lurking." His brow furrows as though he's actually worried about this 'Tunnelsnake Monster,' in spite of the fact that it was fictional when the day started.

Seeing his opportunity the little bronze pounces on the offered food, slaying his mighty prey with a triumphant creel! Yep. This is definitely how the next plague begins. Roheis and Osarlio are seated at a table together while the other occupants seem to be dwindling quickly even during the busy dinner rush, a tiny bronze 'lizard feeding from scraps given to him by the taller of the two. "Hmm, check with the Weyrwoman. Maybe she'll give you special dispensation to start a monster hunting squad and make sure you don't disturb the Sands more than needed." She offers more forcibly, veneer of politeness crumbling as she's realizing what situation she's talking herself into.

Osarlio lets out a supportive whoop when Sorrel 'kills' his prey, holding up his hand as though he expects the bronze to give him a high-five. It takes him a moment longer than it should to realize that firelizards don't give high-fives - at least not YET - and that hand moves to scratch at his head beneath the wooden bucket he's still wearing as a hat. "Of course she'll say yes! Why wouldn't she say yes? She wants those sands to be Tunnelsnake Monster free, doesn't she? And dragons can't see them." New fact, just added to the Tunnelsnake Monster lexicon! "She needs us, and our team is ready."

Its been a long day. It's been a real damn long day, and Evka finds herself entering the living caverns for a meal and it's past when she would normally go to bed. The young Weyrsecond plods a weary path to the sideboards to pick a meal from what's left of the night's fare. A giant mug of klah joins her potluck before she turns to find a seat, klah brown eyes looking 'round for somewhere to plant her butt. She ends up near Roheis, whom she recognizes from the stores and Osarlio, whom she knows not at all. The woman slumps into a seat and begins to eat, tired gaze trained on the firelizard antics at hand. Her own fair is absent for the moment, of doing whatever it is firelizards do when not with their human pets. Should anyone look her way, Evka will wave and give a slow smile in response. Her klah is consumed greedily, its been a long day, and she's got a long night ahead of her. Thank Faranth for restdays or she'd die.

The little bronze, only a few sevens old by the looks of him, looks up the airborne hand whilst happily munching away on his totally fearsome kill, head cocking one way then the other and back again before he decides to gather the rest of the offering up and slink back to the protective circle of Roheis's arm to finish the rest off. The Assistant Headwoman seems to be in distress by the wide-eyed look she passes around the tables, searching for someone to talk some sense into her table-mate as she's clearly not getting her point across. Unfortunately that person is Evka. "Weyrsecond Evka," she greets from across the way with a bright smile. "Join us?" Code for - save me!

It's cool, Sorrel, Osarlio doesn't take any offense. He gets it. Sometimes you just want to curl up with your mom and have her take care of you. There's an acknowledging nod for the bronze's choices, but before long he's off to the races again. "I need to find more buckets. Small buckets, for small heads. Do they make kid-sized buckets?" It's a serious inquiry which is addressed first to Roheis, and then expanded to include Evka as well when the poor Weyrsecond is dragged into the conversation. "Weyrsecond? Cool! I bet you know all kinds of secrets. Like the murder caves! I'm going to take the kids down there next."

Evka looks at her food, then back up at Roheis, then down at her food, and heaves a great sigh. She stands and picks up her plate and her klah and moves to sit with Roheis, her food and drink barely making it to the table before the woman sinks into her chair. She rubs the sleepy from her eyes and moves to take a long drink from her klah mug before she speaks. "Good Evening Assistant Headwoman Roheis." She hopes she got that right. She's tired. It's no secret she and the Weyrleader have been locked up in the WarRoom a lot lately. The Weyr is in a bit of a crisis, and it's showing.

Roheis would normally be apologetic for bothering Evka but she's in over her head here. "Small buckets? For small heads? I suppose I could check the stores," she trails off noncommittally with a nervous laugh, avoiding a straight forward answer by sipping her own quickly diminishing klah as the conversation goes on. "This gentleman here has an…idea to keep the Weyr safe from the Tunnelsnake Monster. Surely that's something you'd know about?" Playing the Hold-bred card hard here she turns to Osarlio and belatedly remembers her manners. "I don't think I caught your name?"

"I can check the stores!" Protip: no one let him in the stores. There won't be any stores left after Osarlio makes his way through them. "The deadly Tunnelsnake Monster. Dragons can't see it." This piece of lore affirmed, he reaches for the last available discarded plate on the table, which barely has anything in the way of scraps for him to consume. Was it mentioned that he's eating other people's leftovers instead of getting his own plate? "Name's Osarlio," he says around another mouthful, "but you can call me anything you want." It's hard to tell if he's attempting to be smooth, or if he just genuinely does not care what people call him. "Someone called me Buckethead earlier, that was pretty great." So probably the latter, then.

Evka gives a slooooow blink in Osarlio's direction when the lad begins to speak. Hadn't he said something to her before? Some comment about secrets and her rank. She feels a bit sheepish for not having answered him. She shakes her head in Roheis' direction and sighs. "Nope, never heard of it." And then Osarlio is explaining said Tunnelsnake monster and Evka is finding herself a bit lost. Were they speaking of the supposed tunnelsnake in the stores? Or…? "Dragons can't see it eh? How come?" Is this one for real? Or just short a few marbles? Evka is so fatigued that she's nearing slaphappy and the word Buckhead near has her giggling a bit. No. It totally makes her giggle. Sorry kid. She's not laughing at you. Promise. She eyes him stealing scraps off the table and gives him an odd sort of look though. "Are you hungry kid? You know you can just get a plat eof food from the boards, right?"

Roheis seems to have really stepped in it this time by mentioning the stores. Slowly a dainty hand rises to cover her face in the universal sign of 'you've got to be kidding me'. "A fair question," she agrees with Evka. Her knowledge of such things is clearly not as deep. With a heavy sigh she regains her composure and straightens herself up, ever the picture of a lady even if she's currently under awkward duress and calling in the cavalry. "I am Roheis," she offers simply while turning her attention expectantly to Osarlio nee Buckethead for an answer to Evka's pressing question.

Osarlio looks bewildered by Evka's question, scratching at his head beneath that bucket hat again. It wobbles wildly, but doesn't tumble. "Well I mean, how come we can't fly? We've got these things," he holds up his arms flaps them in demonstration, "but trust me, they don't work. So it's just like that." He shrugs, satisfied that his explanation makes complete sense. Unfortunately, he's not much of a kid (except in spirit!), but it doesn't seem to bother him to be termed as such. He doesn't even seem to care if she's laughing at him. "The food is sooooooo faaar awaaaaay," he groans out, making it sound way more dramatic than it is. He's been fighting Tunnelsnake Monsters all evening, he's wiped out. "Roheis is a cool name. So is Weyrsecond!"

Evka slams down the last of her klah, then looks at the dregs mournfully. Wait, what is this kid talking about? Perked by her own curiosity, and probably some of the klah, Evla looks back to Osarlio and just stares. Brushing his explination of the TSM, she focuses on the whine about food. "If I can make it to the boards for my supper so can you young man. And Weyrsecond isn't my name, it's my title. My name is Evka."

"Can I refill that for you?" Roheis offers oh-so-helpfully, nodding to Evka's sadly emptied mug. Sorrel has climbed his way back up on to her shoulder and splayed himself out comfortably at some point during the conversation. Not knowing exactly what to do with the compliment(?) she offers him a warm smile and polite nod. "Thank you. Yours is nice as well." Seeing as Evka is driving the conversation to something more direct and easier to manage, she'll let her continue that line…knowing full well she'll probably owe the brownrider a favor later.

"Right, no, I knew that." Osarlio laughs at his own mistake, his eagerness to pay Evka a compliment apparently getting ahead of his mouth. "But Weyrsecond would be a cool name. Everyone would think you were important, even if you were nobody. Maybe I should change my name…" Now he's considering that, apparently missing the fact that Evka called him young man, when he's not particularly young at all. "What if I changed my name to Weyrwoman? That would really confuse people. Hey, can the Harpers do that?" This question is mostly for Evka, although he does glance in Roheis's direction just in case she has some input.

"Please and thank you." Evka returns to Roheis and hands her her mug. Turning back to Osarlio, who is young enough, though Evka has no true way of knowing his age at the moment, she raises a brow. "I suppose you're right there, but that's assuming one would be allowed to change their name to such a thing." Would someone be allowed to do that? Evka's not actually sure. "I don't know that name changing lies in the hands of the Harpers, but then again, you're asking the wrong person there. I was a trader before I was a rider." No Harper experience here.

"Unfortunately I can't say I know either. Only way I know to change names is through marriage or Impression, but those are both decided by someone else so I don't think you'd have much say in that matter. Maybe find a Harper to ask?" Roheis offers with a slight shrug as she rises to fetch the tired Weyrsecond some more klah. Being a little higher up in the chain of food service authority she's able to track down and return with the fresh stuff in a relatively quick fashion with the added bonus of refreshing her own mug.

"Do you think I could get a dragon to change my name to Weyrwoman?" This is getting more and more off-track by the minute, but Osarlio seems entirely oblivious to that fact. "Maybe a dragon from one of those eggs we have to protect from the Tunnelsnake Monster!" It call comes back around. His jaw drops open like this is a revelation, his eyes exaggeratedly wide. "It all makes sense now!" To literally no one but him. He raps his knuckles against his bucket hat, knocking on wood for good luck. "Hey, since you were a trader, do you know if they sell kid-sized buckets?"

Evka looks a bit dumbfounded by the time Roheis returns. The fresh Klah is taken gratefully and sipped with relief. "The only way a dragon changes your name is when you impress.." As to kid sized buckets, Evka shrugs. "I suppose they might, depending on who you approach and where you find them. Southern doesn't have too many traders, we have merchants though, so check there."

The ways of dragons, besides how to act politely around them and not get accidentally hurt, are above and beyond her expertise so Roheis has no useful comments on that matter. "Agreed. There might be someone there, or someone who knows someone. That sort of thing." As for the other matter…well, she clearly doesn't have the puzzle-solving ability to figure it all out but she'll nod along. Seeing as she's somehow managed to finish her own meal through the conversation she collects her dishware into a neat little pile, including the number of now empty plates Osarlio has left behind. "Sounds like you have everything squared away here?" She directs to both of them.

Osarlio nods right along with Evka's words, looking faintly confused, because isn't that exactly what he said? (No.) "Yeah, that's what I mean! Impress a dragon, and then it'll change my name to Weyrwoman. Or something else cool like that." He shrugs, shovels the last morsel from the plate to his mouth, and then adjusts his bucket hat so that it sits at a more jaunty angle. "Merchants. Okay." And then he's up, and just… leaving. No goodbye, no checking to see that all of his former child-charges have found someone to take care of them - he's off to see the merchants, the wonderful merchants of Southern! (Don't worry, he'll eventually figure out that they're already closed for the night.)