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Post by coelacanth on May 16, 2011 20:42:14 GMT -5
A long time ago, back at the minor hall where Rhys had first started learning the metalworking trade, a visiting harper had stayed for the evening, and challenged some of the smiths to a song. When a few had declined, saying they couldn't sing, the harper had consoled them, explaining that they sung everyday with the rhythm of fire.
Of course, Rhys also thought that harper was a pretentious little nosebleed, who'd ought to be punched in the gut. But the phrase had stuck with him, and even now, years later, it still came to mind sometimes, when he heard the sound of metal against metal as he forged, and it caused a faint, if slightly smirking smile to appear on his face.
He was supposed to be doing candidate chores, sorting ore, and other small tasks, but he'd only gotten halfway done before boredom had set in. No one had been around to reprimand him, so he'd decided to do something a bit more interesting, instead. A small, flat, circular disk was held in his tongs, and he'd beat a spiral pattern into it to make a pendant for someone to wear around their neck.
And when a small hole had been bore through for a string, and the pendant cooled, he went looking for a bit of leather to hang it with, hoping there was something suitable in the still somewhat unfamiliar smithy, so he wouldn't have to so blatantly take off to look elsewhere. "Scorch it all," he muttered, under his breath, as he searched.
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Boo
Jr. Weyrwoman 
booct[M:-425]
Shirath: THOSE aren't spirit fingers... THESE ARE SPIRIT FINGERS!!!
Posts: 1,917
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Post by Boo on May 16, 2011 23:46:07 GMT -5
It was strange to be assigned to chores in the Smithy. Some of them were things she hadn't had to do since apprenticeship whereas others were tasks that she would have completed had she stayed on and remained a Smith. She was not supposed to get injured so she was, instead, sorting out Ores. It was important work this she understood but it was just a little boring. She knew the thought behind it though, the Weyr couldn't afford to have their candidates running into the hatching with injured legs, arms or ears. So, she just bucked down and regressed to a time when she had sorted through piles and piles of metal ore. At the time of apprenticeship she had gone through the name and properties of each one as she sorted.
There was rather a lot of it and she spotted a boy working on the same task as she arrived in the Smith but he shortly left. Perhaps he was supposed to be gathering some ore for some of the Smiths in the cavern. She lost sight of him for a moment but then noticed the boy had started working the forges. She frowned but by this point he had already finished.
"Looking for something?" She asked casually.
She was almost certain that he wasn't supposed to be working the Forge but that would make itself plain in a short while. She continued sorting the ores after she had spoken wondering vaguely whether he was a candidate. The chores he had seemingly been set to suggested it certainly but she wasn't about to accuse him for no reason. Besides, perhaps he simply wasn't aware of the customs... |
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Post by coelacanth on May 17, 2011 16:40:42 GMT -5
Rhys was so used to such "stealthy" slacking off that he didn't make much indication that that was what he was doing. No jumping, or guilty looks. He just answered the question, and rather honestly, at that, with his slightly bullish eyes fixed on her. "Looking for a bit of string or leather strip to finish up that pendant I was making. Don't want to have to search the rest of the Weyr, if we have some in here, y'know?"
Then his eyes narrowed, though in mild bemusement, rather than suspicion. "You for the whers, auntie, or just filling in for an apprentice?" She was too old for a dragon candidate, and, by the look of her, had clearly worked at a forge for a good while, for she had the scars to show for it. Forge scars were something he could at least generally (and appreciatively) recognise from his own few years as a beginning smith, and he had a few of his own.
Meanwhile, as the apprentice spoke, the pendant itself was turned over and over in his thick fingers, as though he couldn't quite keep them still. He liked the feeling of warm metal, just cool enough to touch without discomfort.
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Boo
Jr. Weyrwoman
booct[M:-425]
Shirath: THOSE aren't spirit fingers... THESE ARE SPIRIT FINGERS!!!
Posts: 1,917
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Post by Boo on May 18, 2011 17:35:56 GMT -5
Yalenia watched the boy carefully. She laughed when he asked his question.
"Oh, so funny." She replied, mock wiping a tear of laughter from her eye, "How have I lived my life without that wit?"
She also did not answer his question or assist him in searching for the leather strap. Him bringing up Whers was a clear sign that he was a candidate himself and shouldn't be anywhere too close to a Forge. She kept an eye on him but continued her chores. She didn't really care what he wanted to think of her.
"You know... The Weyr has strict rules about impression. It would be unfortunate if, hypothetically, a candidate for Dragon or Wher happened to also be a Smith and foolishly decided to work the forge managing to harm themselves in the process." She stated in musing tones, "Depending on the injury... Well, they might not be allowed to stand."
She figured the warning was just enough to make him realise just what was at stake with working the forge.
There was true concern in her tone for she wasn't going to outright reprimand him yet knowing that he may merely have been unaware of the rules. She'd been a candidate for sometime now and knew the rules fairly well. Hence why she was sorting through the ore rather than running around making metal goods. She loved work as a Smith but she was to be a Wherhandler now and knew it was an important thing to remember.
She was sorting the ores basically on weight and feel alone having done such things often enough to be able to sort through the goods extremely quickly. In fact, it wasn't so much a chore as it was a task. She didn't even find it that tiresome. |
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Post by coelacanth on May 18, 2011 19:52:27 GMT -5
At first, Rhys gave her a heavy frown at her mock-tearing, his hand tightening around the pendant he was holding. But then, as she went on to talk about candidate rules, his grip relaxed, and his expression softened to an extreme irritation. The jig was up, anyhow, so he asked, with a snort, "They let candidates eat with a knife, too, or is that risking it?"
After putting the freshly forged bit of jewelry in the pocket of his apron, and making a mental note to keep looking for the string later (which he correctly assumed on principle that he'd promptly forget) the kid went back over to pick at the ore. He still wasn't doing all that much, but it at least gave the appearance that he might have been working. Maybe. Mostly, he wanted to pick her brain, since she seemed to know a thing or two about candidacy. "What about, y'know, afterwards?"
Unlike Yalenia, sorting was a chore for Rhys. And one of his least favorites, at that. He wasn't too sure how he'd gotten through the first year or so of his apprenticeship, since it was mostly what he was assigned to, but he figured he'd used a similar ploy as now. Next time, he'd have to ask to work the bellows, instead, since at least he could watch the flames, but supposed to himself with even more irritation that they might think he'd somehow set himself on fire.
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Post by claire on May 19, 2011 14:06:23 GMT -5
On this particular fine spring morning, he was heading back to the forge with a stomach full of Mizuko's rather excellent baking and a pocket full of wherry scraps for Nip. The regular availability of freshly baked goods was among the reasons he'd actually managed to get into the habit of eating a reasonable amount in the morning. Being smacked with breadsticks was one of those things that tended to convince a person to do as they were told. He knew she meant well, even if her methods were a bit on the odd side...and if a decent breakfast was what it took to make her happy, well, he could manage that.
He entered the smithy, absently acknowledging the candidates sorting ore in passing, and made straight for the forge. It was hotter than it should have been at this hour: he gave it a puzzled frown in passing and he shrugged out of his heavy jacket. The jacket was hung from a hook on the back wall of the smithy; the package of still-bloody raw wherry meat was retrieved from the pocket and deposited in front of the smithy's resident kitten, who pounced on it enthusiastically.
There were a couple of tools out of place as well, now he came to look more closely; he glanced over at the candidates with narrowed eyes before returning them to their rightful place. After that it was simply a matter of suiting up for the day's work. He donned the leather apron first, and tucked the pair of heavy wherhide forge gloves into the back of his belt for safekeeping. Hefting a hammer absently, he gazed unseeing at the banked coals of the forge as he mentally ran over the day's to do list. Where to start, where to start?
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Boo
Jr. Weyrwoman
booct[M:-425]
Shirath: THOSE aren't spirit fingers... THESE ARE SPIRIT FINGERS!!!
Posts: 1,917
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Post by Boo on May 19, 2011 17:39:41 GMT -5
Yalenia was pleased to see that she had somewhat distracted the boy from what was happening. She did laugh a little, and truly, at his sarcastic question about knives. She regretted that she had not managed to distract him before working the Forges. She knew that she was probably the higher ranking Smith of the two... Still, dwelling on the fact wouldn't change anything just as long as she stopped him if he tried it again.
"You mean after we've impressed?" She asked, not waiting for an answer she continued, "Well, once a Hatchling approaches you, you must cut your hand and allow them to drink the blood. That's called a blood bond but I assume you know this. Once that's happened you take the Wheret to the food on the sands and, after the Alphahandler has congratulated you the pair of you take to the Wherling's barracks. Of course, then it comes down to caring for your Wher. Oiling, feeding, bathing..." She paused a moment when she spotted a Smith enter the Cavern.
"Greetings... Journeyman Smith Carfen?" She asked with some wonderment as to whether she had managed to get his name right.
She had checked up on a couple of people before transferring and, having been a Journeyman herself, she had checked the Smiths as carefully as the leadership, curious as to whether she'd known any. The man who had just entered somewhat fit the age of one of those Smiths. She wasn't certain whether she got the name correct but it couldn't hurt to try. He was probably a little busy really. She turned back to the candidate.
"But there'll be more on that from the Alphahandler when you impress." She smiled kindly.
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Post by coelacanth on May 19, 2011 21:26:58 GMT -5
Rhys was still distracted. It wasn't exactly what he was asking, but she'd described the hatching process in better detail than he'd known, so he didn't interrupt her. He wanted to know what to expect, after all. When Yalenia was done, the kind smile gets another bemused sort of frown from him, like he was wondering exactly what she wanted by being nice, when there wasn't really any reason in his mind for her to be. Nice people set him on edge.
"Meant, they're going to stop treating us like glass, afterward, right? I'd like to keep making things once in a while, 'least as a hobby." That, and see his mentor, Miihen, who happened not to be around just then, alas. But the former apprentice didn't care to mention the man. "You going for that gold on the sands?" he hazards to guess.
Something distracted him from his distractor, though, and his head whipped around, as he saw Carfen feeding Nip. "That well-dusted little feline is yours?" She might have nipped Rhys himself, though he didn't have any visible marks from it. In his head, he'd been amusingly calling her "The Beast" for the past couple of days, for she so clearly was one, and he very much approved of her, if secretly.
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Post by claire on May 22, 2011 17:56:15 GMT -5
"...greetings," he replied after a moment, blinking at the older candidate. He had no idea how she knew who he was - he would have sworn he'd never spoken to her before. He wasn't even going to attempt to guess her name - he knew perfectly well he hadn't the slightest chance of getting it right. He nodded in acknowledgement and lifted the smoked glass forge goggles he'd be using.
Nip mewled as though she knew she was being discussed, and Carfen snorted softly at the boy's question. "It might be more accurate to say that I'm hers," he replied, absently scratching the feline in question behind the ears. She purred and affectionately sank her teeth into his thumb. And her claws into his arm. He lifted said arm and the kitten came up with it. It took a few minutes of disentangling to coax her to remove claws from flesh.
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Boo
Jr. Weyrwoman
booct[M:-425]
Shirath: THOSE aren't spirit fingers... THESE ARE SPIRIT FINGERS!!!
Posts: 1,917
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Post by Boo on May 23, 2011 17:09:06 GMT -5
"Well... Once the Wher is older then, yes, I should think so. I mean, it's not just your life anymore but the life of another creature. You'll understand when you impress." She responded, not even noticing the little frown she received, "And yes, I am."
She didn't mind what happened. She'd met one of the other candidates for the Gold and would have been more than happy to take orders from her should she not impress the Gold. Either way, she would be happy. She had not yet met the other couple of candidates but hoped she could before the hatching. Something told her, however, that she might not.
Yalenia was pleased that she had checked some of the records before transferring for she seemed to have gotten his name correct. She smiled at the Smith and then turned her attention to the little kitten whom the other candidate had looked at only a moment before. She laughed a little at the statement that the Smith did not own the kitten but was rather owned by it. She always found it rather amusing how canines would follow someone around and yet felines could control just about any human.
"She seems sweet." Yalenia commented.
She wasn't sure whether she would have personally felt comfortable having any pet too close to the Forge but then the kitten was rather small and probably easy to keep in control. Not like a Flitt or even a larger not so well behaved canine. |
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Post by coelacanth on May 23, 2011 18:18:54 GMT -5
The more Yalenia spoke, the more Rhys realised he really did want a wher, and badly. Even if he was going to be treated like 'glass' for a while. The hard part was keeping himself in check long enough for them to let him have one, and frankly, he was a bit surprised that he'd actually gotten so far as to move into the candidate's barracks.
"Yeah, sweet. Sweet as a lemon tree sticking its thorns into you," Rhys commented in return, a sort of smirk appearing on his face, as he watched Nip nip and claw poor Carfen. Not a misnomer. He really, really did approve of the little calico, except that he wouldn't have let her do that to him. Just other people. He asked the feline's owner, "Why don't you stop her? She just mean, or looking for attention?"
But by then another question had occurred to him, and this one he directed back at the potential gold-handler. A question of the utmost importance. "They're not going to make us wear those funny robes, are they? 'M not doing that." His voice was firm, almost growly, as though he wasn't going to budge on the issue.
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Post by claire on May 23, 2011 19:05:32 GMT -5
Carfen raised a faintly incredulous eyebrow as Yalenia watched Nip sink her claws into his arm and described it as 'sweet'. It turned slowly into a grin as Rhys voiced what he was thinking. Nip didn't mean any of it maliciously, but 'sweet' really would not be the word he would have chosen to describe her. He would have left her in his room, but she had a tendency to wander off looking for him if he went and left her. As he understood it that sort of loyalty was not remotely normal in a feline. But if keeping her close by was what it took to keep her from causing trouble all over the weyr then he could live with it.
"Neither," he replied absently, stroking Nip behind the ears briefly and then moving away before she could start playing again. With a shrug he elabourated; "She doesn't mean any harm. She just never learned that she shouldn't play rough. I don't mind, and no-one else pays enough attention to her to be bothered by it." He picked up worse injuries every day at the forge - the odd scratch from Nip was barely enough to be worth noticing.
With that he moved across to the other side of the forge to begin pumping the bellows, attention mostly on his work. But a snort did escape him at Rhys' abrupt demand of the other candidate.
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Boo
Jr. Weyrwoman
booct[M:-425]
Shirath: THOSE aren't spirit fingers... THESE ARE SPIRIT FINGERS!!!
Posts: 1,917
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Post by Boo on May 23, 2011 19:35:24 GMT -5
Yalenia had just finished her comment when the little Kitten sank her claws and teeth into the arm of the Smith. Well, she looked something crazy right now. She had suffered a few injuries in her time so a kitten clawing at someone's arm didn't seem too bad. In fact, she really did think it somewhat sweet. She was clearly not doing it out of anger but rather because she loved her slave. Yes, Yalenia was familiar with the concept of cats treating their owners like slaves but she still found the kitten rather adorable.
"Hmm... Well, at least she's not doing it out of anger." Yalenia replied cheerfully.
She turned away from the kitten and Smith to continue her chores. At the abrupt question asked by the candidate she looked up in surprise and laughed. She hadn't ever really thought too much abou it. It had simply been a part of each and every hatching she'd ever attended. Nothing about the Robes seemed abnormal at all. From Carfen's snort she assumed that he thought the question a little strange.
"Well, it's a tradition. So yes. At least with everyone wearing the same thing there won't be an obvious economic disparity amongst the candidates." She replied thoughtfully, "I don't know, it's just something to make everyone as equal as possible." |
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Post by coelacanth on May 23, 2011 22:03:39 GMT -5
Yalenia, probably unknowingly, just played Rhys like a fiddle. "Oh, well, that makes sense, I guess," he muttered, feeling a little stupid at himself. In his head, he imagined that he was some sort of dogged revolutionary, fighting for equality, so the answer was just the one that appealed to him. Outside of his head, well...
"I'm Rhys, by the way." At first he had avoided introductions, but now that it was crystal clear he was a candidate, he didn't see the harm in it.
He settled back near the ore and Yalenia, and started sorting again, albeit halfheartedly. He seemed much more interested in examining the rocks than really sorting them, and would rather be smelting them into ingots, but at least he didn't make any mistakes.
Glances were stolen Carfen-ward now and then, at what he got to do, and a jealous rage started growing in him. Though it was a fire he didn't really care to tend, and it was left to smoulder, like the coals. He was getting a wher, after all, so everything would be worth it.
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