Reky
Alphahandler 
rekyct[M:-999]
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Post by Reky on Sept 11, 2012 16:28:04 GMT -5
Summer had always been a rather tense season for Skelis. Amid the typical festivities and escapades, she always had the vinyard on her mind, and during her first summer at Dalibor, this anxiety was only amplified. Her plants were babies; her vinyard took up a very small area of fertile land for now, and she would go on out of the Weyr to check on them whenever she got a moment. Their leaves were broad and healthy, but they were still young. It would be a very long time before Dalibor had a flourishing wine trade.
To add to her grape-tending, Skelis also had her chores. She had agreed to Stand for dragons but was recently wondering why. She was a busy person, running between her craft and her candidacy quite often. In the lesson, she thought of wine. When she was at her pitiful excuse for a vinyard, she thought of her lessons. It had been alright in the winter and spring when the ground was still cold, but now that time was creeping up on harvest, Skelis' mind was tiring. Still, she pressed onward, because there was not much else she could do.
She had seen (and felt, which was a rather novel sensation) an orange dragon Rise a few days prior and her head, like the Weyr, was abuzz with the possibility of eggs. Might be able to actually Stand before I age out, she mused with a genuinely entertained grin. Faranth, I'd be the luckiest old fart of a candidate. Not that twenty Turns was all that old, though recently, she'd been feeling it.
Today, though, she had little time for light-hearted thoughts of ugly baby dragons and their colours and their riders. She walked into the kitchens hot and slick from the summer sun and tugged her dirty garden gloves off her hands. Kitchen chores were fine by her; she didn't mind the washing, though she found the soapsand made her hands softer than she was used to. She thought she might have been late but her partner didn't seem to be there yet. Guess I'm not, she thought, and wiped her brow with her sleeve.
She eyed the stack of dirty breakfast dishes suspiciously but simply leaned against the counter for a little while longer. Summer was busy, Skelis was busy, and she figured she was due for a little break. At least thirty seconds - she could deal with thirty seconds. [/blockquote] |
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Gray
Wingrider 
grayct[M:-350]
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Post by Gray on Sept 11, 2012 17:11:06 GMT -5
She was a fine specimen, so pretty and both strong and swift. Not as swift as he'd like, but she was the first foal. He didn't expect perfection. No, she was close though. Sweet and mild like her mother, she was perfect for helping entertain the weyrbrats or get people accustomed to runners. With a final loving pat on the muzzle, Seven lead her to her stall and locked it. She could rest and eat in there.
Stripping off his gloves, he sighed. Well. He knew there was an orange flight a few days ago. He had felt it. It wasn't as bad when the gold had flown, nor nearly as terrifying as when the red had taken flight. But he wasn't sure he liked it. Stopping near his bunk, he pulled out another meticulously folded outfit and changed. He had a hard time thinking about dragons. He was one year closer to aging out.
“Happy turn day to me.” Truthfully, he didn't mind much. He really never expected to stand, and he really didn't expect to impress. He doubted any dragon would like to be stuck helping him care for runners.
But that was enough thinking and mumbling. He had chores to do. Along the walk, he thought of his runners. Of Agrboa and Hel, and finding Hel a good mate. Seven frowned a bit. He's have to ask around, see what Dalibor had to offer in way of stallions. The first smell of the kitchens pulled him from his thoughts. Food always did that, his stomach rumbled a bit, but he shook his head. No no. No time for that.
It wasn't until he saw Skelis that he remembered he had a partner. Oh. Seven wasn't exactly a social creature. He found others didn't really take to his quick, sort conversations. His sisters had said it made him sound rude. That annoyed him, he wasn't rude. He just didn't jaw on forever. Still. He had to be polite.
“Ah, Hello. I assume you are to be my partner?” That's right Seven. Keep it short and polite. Don't make eye contact. He was certain that girls could melt your soul just by making eye contact. His fingers tapped together nervously. He had to distract himself. Turning, he looked over the stacks of dishes. Lovely, work would make this so much easier.
“Would you prefer to dry? Or wash? Or should we just tackle it together?” A bit of sweat beaded at his brow, and it wasn't from the heat.
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Reky
Alphahandler
rekyct[M:-999]
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Post by Reky on Sept 11, 2012 19:45:25 GMT -5
The small spot of idleness that Seven's absence provided her with was glorious. She had time to breathe, time to think, and had resolved to scratch out some letters to Heifdem, Ilsidan, and her little brother later that night. She'd gotten a letter back from Ilsidan not long ago - he said he missed her - and had been meaning to write back to tell him to keep free for whenever the next Hatching was. It would be good to have her family - biological and otherwise - there with her.
Seven came quite promptly, though, and Skelis lifted the small of her back off the counter where it rested. She stood tall; quirked a smile at the shorter boy. "Hey Seven," she said warmly. He'd been here even longer than she had, but she knew he wasn't one for talking. It was entertaining to her. "I'll wash, you dry. We can switch later if you start getting sick of it." Or if I get sick first, she mused, but had enough faith in her diligence to be able to get through the whole pile of dishes. She looked at it again just to make sure.
She took one of the buckets of water, dumped it into the washing basin, and got to work. She was rather intent on getting Seven to open up - or, if that couldn't be done, at least making him uncomfortable. Someone had told her (and she didn't remember who) that he was mostly like this around girls, and the recall of this gossipy tidbit made her smile involuntarily. She took a moment to feel her own body - the height of it, her angles, her calloused fingers and feet. She was closer to either a boy or a woman, she figured - or neither - but 'girl' counted too.
"How are your runners doing, kiddo?" she asked, passing him the first freshly-scrubbed plate. "They're a good looking lot, hey? But all I know anything about is grapes." Grin, laugh, scrub. She put another plate in his pile. [/blockquote] |
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Gray
Wingrider
grayct[M:-350]
Posts: 870
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Post by Gray on Sept 12, 2012 0:35:48 GMT -5
Seven was really bad at keeping up with the other candidates. While others had banded together, forged friendships, he had kept to himself. Not ot say he didn't keep tabs on them. He knew them by name, and he knew if they had plans for the future if this did fall out. Skelis was a vintner, something he didn't know much about. He knew even less about wine, than he did vintners. Except for the fact that one of his brothers adored it, and that it led trouble. For that reason he tended to avoid it.
Still. Skelis was a girl and that made any calm, cool thoughts flee from his head live ovine before a dragon. He just had to do his best to ignore the shaking of his hands and just focus on the washing. Or in his case, drying.
“I think I can do that.” He chuckles a bit, and did his best to smile. Why, oh why did they keep pairing him up with girls? He just had to take it slow. He scoped around the area until he found a stack of small, fresh towels. Grabbing one, he held up.
“This should do.”
She started work quickly, good. Seven liked it when he could just dive in. As she handed him plates, he would start to dry them in quick circular motions. Once done, he'd set them aside in a neat little stack. Perfection, it always had to be perfection. Every now and then he would nudge the stack one way or another until he was satisfied. Everything was ok, he was dealing with this.
Skelis' question about the runners caught him off guard and he just stared for a moment before recovering.
“They are doing rather well. Dalibor did wonders for them.” He tended to ramble when it came to the runners, but he cut himself short. She didn't want to hear him ramble.
“They are, I have my brother to thank. He got me started.” He dried a few more places, stacking them as he gathered his thoughts.
“Grapes are good too. I don't know much about them or wine. We both know our respective trades.” It was deeper, and longer, than he had meant for it to be. Pausing he frowned at himself.
“But of course, we can always learn more.”
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Reky
Alphahandler
rekyct[M:-999]
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Posts: 1,554
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Post by Reky on Sept 15, 2012 13:04:57 GMT -5
Skelis grinned. "Yeah, we can." She wasn't sure where extensive - or even sparse - knowledge of runners played into her daily life, but knowledge was power. Or, at least, a leg up in late-night drunken trivia games. There was a use for everything.
"S'good that your runners are liking Dalibor," and she genuinely meant it. "I'm a little worried about my grapes. I think they're doing well - they're still young - but I would've hope to see them doing better. It's a hard latitude. I was maybe a little too hopeful about the island bit of it. I don't think it'll frost as early, but... Iunno. I could always try something else." There were a myriad of "something elses" that she could turn to. She hadn't hit any dead ends in her first Turn at the Weyr; that was good.
"At least I probably won't get to any actual winemaking soon, though. It's a little tricky when you can't drink as a candidate." It was both a blessing and a curse that the plants might not be ready. If she aged out of candidacy, though, she would have a very good bottle of Benden in celebration - or more like a consolation. Weyrlinghood would put an a stopper in her alcoholic pasttimes for even longer, but for a good reason. She couldn't seem to win all around for a good few Turns, but that was life.
"So, you excited, kid?" Not that she was that much older than him. "You stood for a clutch before?" She'd never even seen firelizards hatch for more than out of the corner of her eye. For a brief moment she twisted a sad grin at her very, very typical candidate jabber, but maybe typical was what Seven needed. Skelis kept on scrubbing and kept on passing her clean dishes along. The stack was steadily diminishing on her side and growing sparkly on the other. [/blockquote] |
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