The Mudslide Log

16th August 2002
Logged by Pyrene


Asteroid & Mudslide TP
PREVIOUS: Threadfall & meteors
NEXT: mudslides and aftermath


Living Caverns
The rough-hewn majesty of this cavern far outpaces any delight in the multitudes of curves that form its enclosure. The glabrous grey granite is shot through with translucent obsidian, lending subtly-veined sparkle to the walls and the foot-trodden smoothness of the floor that shows centuries-old placements of the scarred trestle tables; carven hollows give homes for the glow baskets and the coat-pegs that line the walls. No mosaics, no painting, no tiles: just a few well-done tapestries mark the pathway that lead to the kitchen to the north and the inner caverns to the west, and frame the nighthearth's stew and snacks, while a heavier strip of oiled canvas shields the unwary from the wind in the bowl.
Scattered about in various perches and niches are forty-six firelizards.
Miria is here.

Siannen walks in from the Central Bowl.
Lis ambles aimlessly in from the Central Bowl.

Pyrene is curled in a chair, cuddling Pidgery like a teddy bear and fast asleep. From those dark circles under her eyes, she needs the rest, although she's twitchy even now, and Pidgery is starting to grizzle impatiently.

Lis shuffles through the door of the caverns, tracking snow behind her as she plods mindlessly towards the food. A drudge hustles after her, screeching and scolding, but is rendered speechless by a black look from under the greenrider's ever-hooded brows. /Good/ morning.

Miria retreats into the caverns after a long, snack-less shift, sniffling her disgust. "Why, that foul boy had the /nerve/ to fool me into getting in trouble and extending my shift a candlemark," she mutters. "Anything good in the area of a nice herdbeast meatroll available?" she asks a passing drudge. "I'm starved." And with that, she proceeds to lower herself into a seat.

Pyrene is woken by the drudge's scolding, nearly falling out of her chair before Pidgery's squeal alerts her to where she is. Her free hand grabs the arm to steady herself, and she swings her legs down stiffly. "Morning? Already… but I only just had breakfast…" she mutters.

Siannen is everybody's ray of sunshine, tod - no, no she isn't. Miniature nanny comes stomping in from the cold, looking -exceedingly- grumpy.. and then makes a beeline for something edible. Food is your friend. "Creampuffs.. meatrolls, sweetrolls, coo - eh." And with that, she trudges towards the others, plate piled high with variable munchies. "Anyone want something?" Just. Not the 'puffs.

Lis doesn't feel like talking to anyone, it seems, for she slinks off to a table with a mug of juice. Apparently word has gotten 'round, and the kitchen staff won't let her have any more alcohol. Fine; she just won't drink klah, and refuse to wake up. So there!

"Meatroll, please- I've just worked a very tiring shift." Miria smiles a little bit as she sees Siannen making an offer of food. Just what she needs in her gut right now! "And… uh… maybe a sweetroll too?"

Pyrene blinks sombrely around. "Siannen… plus cream puffs…" she mutters. "Lis… minus alcohol…" A few mental sums later and she groans. "The nightmares were better than this!" It's a joke if an insincere one, but Pidgery doesn't appreciate it, and frets to be put down. Pyrene obliges him, before giving Miria suspicious looks. The whole weyr's pregnant, she's sure.

Siannen doles out the requested foodstuffs, then hunkers down. Hers. Rawr. Pyrene's muttering is blinked at, and Lis is eyed warily. Eye. Eye eye eye. "S'up with oo, Lis?" is offered 'round a mouthful of something-or-other, the nanny keeping half an eye on Pidgery, as well. Just so long as he doesn't go for her food, all is well.

Sinead steps gently in from the Central Bowl.

Lis doesn't even have the heart to protest Pyrene's latest joke, sipping anaemically at her juice. She must be a masochist for company, however, or she'd still be in her weyr. Talking across the cavern would require an effort to project her voice that she doesn't have, though.

Pyrene stands anyway, taking the walk across the cavern in an attempt to clear her head. "I have to stop sleeping in odd places," she mutters aloud. "I'm eternally stiff. Speaking of… Lis, what were you up to last night?" Pidgery trails after her, expression mild as he watches Siannen. Siannen with food. Siannen with cream puffs. Mmm…. cream puffs.

"Thanksh," Miria says as she chows down on the meatroll. "Complimentsh to th' cook, by th' way." Swallowing the first bite, it is then she notices Pyrene and Pidgery's presence- "G'day, Pyrene, Pidge… how're the two of you?" she greets with a grin. "Faring well amidst the aftermath of the groundquakes?"

"The usual," Lis croaks, vocal chords attempting to sound with inadequate air going past them. Cheerful and charming she's not.

Siannen stares at the 'brat in question, munching idly on whatever her hand comes into contact with. Munch. Munch. Mun - ehh. "Y'wan' some?" is finally offered, intact 'puff extended. And then she stops to think. "Oh. Righ'. Can he, Py?"

Pyrene wrinkles her nose at Miria. "Don't… I'm still trying to catch up on sleep from it. The nightmares are tailing off at least, provided I sleep /with/ Cadge. And that's a pain on the back." She's got more complaints to air, just give her the chance! Lis' woes are virtually forgotten, although she does nod casually to Siannen: "You're the nanny. You judge."

Lis doesn't have woes, she just has life, which is depressing enough if you're in the right mood. Greenrider continues to sip, her silence detatching her from the matrix of cavern conversation.

Laytai slinks about with an aura of trouble in from the Central Bowl.
Larnat arrives from deeper in the Weyr.

"Aah… right." Miria winces a bit as Pyrene nosewrinkles. "How's Pidgery?… my, he's grown," she remarks, giggling as she glances at the goldrider's son. "Very handsome, I might add." She takes a bite off her meatroll, chews it a bit, and swallows. After setting it down, she proceeds to get up and pour herself some klah- "Shards, I wish I had my souvenir mug with me… it's better than what we've got here." Snort. Unluckily, in a while, her own mug will be filled with /mud/ instead of /klah/.

Laytai wanders into the caverns, giving a bit of a yawn. A wave goes to all those she knows as she finds herself a seat, sighing with relief. "Good to get off my feet." Kicks up her boots and falls back into the chair, grinning a bit.

Siannen mmphs and nods at Pyrene, "Right. So I am." And so the 'puff is once more extended towards Pidgery. "S'okay. Won' bite yet." She's too busy keping her mouth otherwise occupied, making inroads in her plate of food. Food. Yum.

Pyrene perches next to Lis, prodding her idly with a foot. "C'mon love. It's not the end of the world… we've already survived that." Waves go around to all and sundry. "Look at that.. midmorning snack time and they descend like a pack of fire lizards. Is a fresh batch of cookies about to come out of the oven and I didn't hear?" Pidgery snatches the cream puff from Siannen and plops his padded backside onto the floor in perfect illustration of the simile.

Larnat comes in: disheveled, floury, and reeking of bread-scent. Grunting, she raises a hand to wipe some of the flour off her face, and ends up with a trail of butter (from her hand), mixing with flour and streaking across her face. "Pidgery? I met him before. Cute little kid. Miria, Pyrene, Sinead, Laytai…Lis, right? And I don't quite remember your name," she adds with a squint at Siannen.

Sinead wanders in from the bowl and promptly makes her way to the food and beverages, wherein she pours herself a mug of klah, and gives a wave to all the occupents of the room. That done, she finds herself a seat.

The only warning is a smell… the pervasive odour preceding the onslaught like a vanguard scouting out the territory. But before there is time to so much as look accusingly at anybody else, rumbling vibrations shake the ground, the sound of a great rushing follows and then all is swept up in the dark, stinking wave of slimy, icy water that rushes through, past, sweeping around ankles and bubbling up to knees in an unstoppable invasion of the lower weyr.

"Isn't that the point of the end of the world, though? Not having to survive anymore?" Lis ponders philosophically, catatonically reacting - or, rather, not reacting - to Pyrene's prodding foot. She'll let the goldrider handle her PR; there's no one she really wants to talk to sober. The water is watched with unseeing eyes, although she does tuck her legs up under herself.

Pyrene doesn't make a sound, she simply pulls her legs up in utter bemusement. Its Pidgery who screams in outrage, and a half-dozen fire lizards flick in and out, shrilling frantically until Pyrene snaps out of it and scoops her son from the floor and onto her lap. Kneeling on the chair, she puts one hand over her nose and stares blankly. "What the….."

Siannen blinks for a moment or two, then squeaks faintly, pulling her legs up underneath her. "Uhm. Ew. Ew." Nose is buried in her hand, and plate of munchies is pushed away. "Suddenly, I'm not so hungry.. What in Faranth's name -is- all this.. ?"

"Eugh… what's tha… Oh shards," Miria squeaks. "This doesn't look too good." Trying as hard as she can not to breathe in through her nose, Mir wades through the mess of water, struggling against the current, and flashes a look towards Sinead. "Ead! We need to evacuate the caverns," she insists, trying to stabilize herself against a cavern wall.

"Larnat," Laytai says, raising her hand in greeting. SHe is about to say more, much much more, but it is all but aside in her mind as her nose catches drift of something. "The shells?!" She screeches, leaping ontop of the chair, hoping to stay dry. "What is going on?"

Sinead's eyes widen as the water comes rushing in. A few seconds before it would have hit her boots she brings her feet up and tucks them under her. "Well, isn't this lovely?" is questioned of no one in general. As her sister yells at her she nods. "Uh… yeah," she notes before sticking her boots in the icy water and making her way over towards her guard sibling.

The rumbles die away as swiftly as they came, and an eerie silence descends over the weyr, broken only by the faint sucking sounds of the icy, mucky water settling in. Not just water either, viscous slime drags at ankles and feet, while raw odour cloys the nostrils, and all is accompanied by that creepy, ever-present gurgle.

Sii'kyn strides purposely in from the Central Bowl.
Trajan walks in from the Central Bowl.

Larnat gasps soundlessly as the liquid surrounds her ankles and makes an effort to climb towards knees. Lurching over to a chair and gripping the thing frantically, Lar hoists herself up. "Shellsshards/Faranth/. Ugh. It /smells/," she whines softly, trying to shake the goop off her pants.

"Whatever it is, it's freezing!" Pyrene snaps out, hands patting over her son. She shakes her head, nostrils pinching. "Where's it come from… No, don't tell me… that smell - Ike? What's going on outside? Cadge?" She glances about frantically, trying to figure out what's going on so she can figure out what to do.

Trajan hums slightly as he heads out of the kitchen..and promptly stumbles a little bit, yiping at the icy water that's suddenly..knee high in the caverns, rushing around him. x.x Where did /this/ come from? The rushing though is preventing the bakerlet from standing too well, promptly falling over. Eck. Wetness. In the Reaches winter. At least it's not too deep..right? Blink. "Wh.." /Slime/? He lifts his hands a little out of the water, the goopy, stinky stuff a little clingy. Oh, that's just /lovely/. COLD!

[OOC:] Pyrene notes for the record that the water's sulfurous. Raw egg smell. Pleasant.

Siannen ughs, twitching at the smell. So far she's managed to stay fairly muck-free, but that aught to change fairly soon. "Shards." Ike and Trajan's appearance is blinked at, and then she stops. And stares. "Oh, /shards/. The 'brats.. ?" Pyrene is turned toward, and the nanny makes an executive decision, "Py, break out that glare - 'f we gotta evacuate those suckers, we're puttin' 'em with you." No one else has the turns of experience getting frantic weybrats to behave, after all.

Sii'kyn strides in, oblivious to the icy mush about his boots - until the pungent smell hits his nostrils, and he stares, as Ram's muted bellows are heard the next room over - literally. "Ram!" He limp-tramples over the icy mud, reaching the nearest chair and vaulting up. Ahah. So, he /can/ move, despite his ever-present limp. "Py, it looked like all the snow in the world decided to descend in all of it's nasty, filthy self. I've been in the ground weyrs!" Bah. "Wait.. wait… this doesn't look right. This is coming from the /lower/ caverns?" Brownrider stares. "The dragons in the groundweyrs!" He holds his nose against the nasty, rotten-eggs sulphuric smell. "I hatehate this. Hatehate this. Ram! Get 'im /out/ of there! I don't /care/ how injured they are!" He bellows this up against the wall, as if the force of his verbal words can carry along the emphasis of his words. "Yes," he mumbles. "There we go."

Lis watches the water go by with childlike simplicity, eyes blinking slowly. Nostrils flare at the strange smell, averse to it, but fascinated. "It smells a little like the springs. I think it's not slowing, either." Doom is prophesied, almost with a note of suicidal delight.

Laytai stands atop the chair, hissing out various curses. "By the egg, smells horrible!" She says, stating the obvious. A hand goes down to touch the smelly liquid and a shiver ripples through the messenger's body. "Bleck! How gross!" Shaking her head, she calmly lowers herself into the water, face plastured with a look of disgust. Might as well just get wet now, since it'll happen sooner or later.

"Ohdear. Ohdearohdearohdear. We reeeally need to evacuate the caverns." Like anybody's going to listen to a guard recruit, though. Miria is /glad/ she's got two turns of guard training behind her, and quickly she takes another whiff of that air. "Shards… it smells eggy… kinda like… Oh, shaaaaaaaaards." Seeing her favorite brownrider (got a favorite of every color, doesn't she?) enter, Mirs greets him emphatically. "Sii'kyn! What in Faranth's heinie is going on- do you know?"

Sinead ecks as her boots meet the water. "This is gross!" the guard promptly exclaims. She wrinkles her nose up and promptly attempts to find something to pull over her nose, and, thankfully, she keeps her scarf with her during winter, so that's promptly tugged over her nose and mouth. As her sister darts off Ead scowls. "Miria!" she shouts, we have stuff to do here….

Trajan pulls himself up slowly, using a relatively dry arm to cover his nose a little bit. "Ugh.." Bath. Soak in a nice..hot..bath after this. Yes. Get rid of the stiiink. Comforting thought at least. Cold, the bakerlet wades through a little bit, shaking his head. "What's going /on/?"

Larnat has had her nose pinched from the moment of her comment about 'smells,' so is reasonably safe from the offense to her nose. "S'all /over/ me," she continues to whine to herself, trying in vain to flick the gunk off. "It…isn't stopping? Not. Good." Her firelizards are huddled about her shoulders, and chittering softly to themselves, as Isabo is mewing softly from Larnat's pouch.

Pyrene breaks out the glare indeed. Her face like stone, the weyrwoman stands teeth gritted against the cold slurry lapping around her ankles. "Cadge! Help Ram!" she snaps aloud, before glancing around. "It's only shallow… There's no need to panic. Let's do damage control!" Barking the obvious seems to keep her comfortable in such times, and with Pidge balanced easily on one bony hip, she uses one bony hand to slap Lis across the face. "Snap out of it and /help/!"

Sii'kyn glares about him. "There.. there we go. The dragons are evac'ing the groundweyrs." His face pales. "What about the /infirmary/?" Agile form twisting, he hops from table-top to table-top, landing next on Mirs' table. "I have no idea what's goin' on, darlin'," he states, silvern eyes scanning - and attatching to Traj's form. "It's rising," he absently states. "Albeit slowly, but it's.. rising." A shudder. "I hate this. This is /nasty/ smelling. What the /shell/ could it be? S'allmost like a flood, but with… ice and snow and mud," he absently comments. "Yeah, listen to Pyrene, Lis! Snap /out/ of it!" Exactly what he told her /last/ night.

Tekin strolls in from the Central Bowl.

Trajan rubs a few strands of hair out of his face, grimacing at the slightly grimy streak he leaves on his cheek. Eck. A glance is given towards the bowl, then the darker depths of the weyr. "..We need to get everyone out of here..don't we.." If the water isn't /stopping/.. Yep. Lower areas are definately gonna flood first. Eyes widen a little bit. The caverns are /so/ going to stink. Forever.

Larnat has had her nose pinched from the moment of her comment about 'smells,' so is reasonably safe from the offense to her nose. "S'all /over/ me," she continues to whine to herself, trying in vain to flick the gunk off. "It…isn't stopping? Not. Good." Her firelizards are huddled about her shoulders, and chittering softly to themselves, as Isabo is mewing softly from Larnat's pouch. *re*

Lis blinks again, rubbing faintly the smarting impression of Pyrene's hand on her face. "You were always so /violent/, Pyrene," whines the greenrider, sounding somewhat more like her old self, at least. "Where are we going to put everyone? We can't put them out in the bowl - it's coming from there," she points out, logically.

Bone-chilling cold is the solid mass of mud that flows into the area, covering everything in it's icy, thick embrace. A sulfuric stench fills the air as bits of stone, grass and other earthy reminants cloud the top-most portions, the flow not ebbing as more and more mud slowly flows inwards, filling every available space, already reaching to mid-calf depth.

"Already suggested that, Traj," Miria remarks, then turns to Sinead, crouching down a bit to lower her center of gravity. So what if her pants get muddy? "We ought to get into the dorms and warn everybody… however, it might be a pain in the behind to get them out of the dorms and into wherever they're supposed to be." To Pyrene, she inquires, "Do we have any empty ground-access weyrs, besides the ground weyr off the infirmary?" She's doubtful, but hey, she can try.

Tekin rushes in, uniform soaked with dirty water and a wild look in his eye. "Ead! Miria! The barracks!" he shouts, pointing wildly toward the bowl and the Guard barracks beyond. "They're ankle-deep in water," he goes on, then suddenly stops, looking down and sees that the living caverns are in no better order. "Shards…."

Sinead shifts over to where Pyrene stands. Ready for orders to be given. However, at Tekin's call she turns. "Oh Faranth," she mutters at his exclamation. "What are we supposed to do?"

Laytai kicks one foot at the water and sends some of the liquid spraying. "Oops..sorry!" She gives a weary grin, hoping she didn't get anyone. Many thoughts start to zip through her head. "Shells! The barn! The stables! The runners! Veritas!" The messenger yells as she moves back and forth a bit, trying to figure out what to do first. "I left my feline in the bowl!" Insert whiney scream. A shiver follows as she peers at the rising water. "Not stopping.." Eepy!

Siannen is still somewhat untouched, though she stares speculatively at the muck below. "Uhm. Shells. S'not only not stopping.. s'getting higher." She scrambles up to the nearest table-top, perching somewhere near Sii'kyn. "We should make sure the 'firmary doesn't flood.. " Miria is blinked at, "'Brats go to Preen. Dunno what you're gonna do about everyone else." She rises slowly, still warily watching the rising muck. She's shorter than everyone else, after all. She has more to worry about, here.

Pyrene whirls around staring at the mud swirling about her ankles as if she's only just noticed it. "It's rising?" she murmurs weakly. Near-imperceptible it is, but it's true. "Oh /shards/!" She splashes fiercely through the cavern as if that will help. It's somewhat satisfying at any rate. "Ask Areiah!" she snaps back at Lis, before looking to Ike. "The Infirmary? Drat it… Well, everybody. Let's go be heroes. Maybe we'll get lucky and it won't have hit the dorms. You guys could sleep through this stench, right?" Tekin just gets a nod and a malicious smile. "Infirmary, that's got to take priority…" And the big strong brownrider can lead the way.

Ankle deep in /water/? Hardly anymore, apparantly. Trajan's eyes widen slowly as the mud flows in, the bakerlet having to struggle a little to take steps through the gunk. "Faranth.." He just stares at the incoming mud, biting down against the cold piercing through his clothing already. Eyes lift slowly to peer at Sii'kyn, nodding quickly before glancing around. "He definately wants to help."

Sii'kyn calmly appraises everyone. "The barns and stables will be fine," he sensibly states. "It's only calf-deep, here." Not that /he's/ stepping in it. "Someone should go make sure the Infirmary's safe," he states, before leaping from table to table. Awww. Big strong brownrider can lead the way? It'd be an honor. Sii'kyn flashes a nod at Pyrene. "Infirmary /does/ take precedense. So! Let's go.. be hero's." Landing lightly back in the mush, his nose wrinkles. "Nasty smell. We'll need to start burning those scent-candles," he suggests drily to Pyrene as he passes, leading the way - slowly, because of the time it takes to sludge through the muck - towards the inner caverns.

Sii'kyn steps into the shadows that lead back into the Weyr.

Deeper, darker, narrower… passages kink and twist into the Weyr.
Inner Caverns
Ancient caverns unfold in an endless maze of tunnels and stairs, the Weyr's cavities a labyrinth to the uninitiated. Here, trimmed by the last of the stone cutters, arched walls and vaulted ceilings retain the soapy smoothness of well-worn stone, as do the endless tunnel floors kept clear and tidy. Shadows creep and flicker across these glowlit mountain walls, creatures of non-light wending their way east to the main caverns and bowl, or branching out in a web of caves to the Weyr's living spaces.
Shadowed on stone-smooth ledge are ten firelizards.
Sii'kyn is here.

Trajan moves in from the Caverns.

Living Caverns> Sinead nods before looking at Miria. "That's our job, right? Playing hero's," is noted as she heads towards the door, and eventually heads towards the inner caverns

Sinead moves in from the Caverns.
Laytai moves in from the Caverns.
Miria moves in from the Caverns.
Lis moves in from the Caverns.
Larnat moves in from the Caverns.

Living Caverns> Siannen wails slightly as everyone moves out before she can, and -plunks- into the muck, marcking vailantly inward. Which, of course, takes far longer than it should, as she's far shorter than anyone sane has a right to be.

Siannen moves in from the Caverns.

Larnat watches with little whimpers as the viscous substance continues to suck at the chairs around the table she was at, waving her hands to scatter firelizards, and looping the string of her satchel firmly about her head, so that Isabo is high up enough. So Larnat trudges slowly into the inner caverns.

Tekin moves in from the Caverns.

"Ead," Miria states, raising our eyebrow, "this is what we do almost every single day… with a few exceptions, I suppose…" However short the mud level is, it's still tough to wade through, and Miria is no exception to that, dragging her feet upon the ground so she doesn't lose her balance in the muck that rushes in. "Uh… hm. I'd think the healer-types would be occupied with diverting the flow from the infirmary, y'know… mayhaps we ought to concentrate on getting the residents out before this foul muck hits 'em."

Pyrene slushes after Ike, wrapping her shawl around Pidgery. A few deft knots later and the toddler is tied to her back. Today's modern weyrwoman mixes family with her career, for motherhood on the go! Through slush, water and mud. "Sandbags! Somebody with a brain!" she cries in relief, spying healer apprentices already trying to fight back the water. "See how far the water's penetrated, Miria… And look for stuff that needs protecting…"

"The other guard'll take care of the barracks," Tekin has decided, chagrin showing on his face as he follows the rest of the pack deeper into the weyr. "I think our help is needed here, right now. Sinead, over there if you please," he says to one guard, pointing as he turns to Miria, "Miria, over there." A take charge kind of guy, isn't he? At least when it comes to his guards. The rest of 'em can help themselves.

Sii'kyn leads the way. Trudge, trudge, trudge. "Shells, it's deeper here," he mutters, easing through the icy slush. Boy, is /he/ glad he wears the stoutest boots the Weavercraft can make. He shifts a glance, concerned, about to speak up about those who're shorter than average - most notably, the tiny Siannen. Then, he trips over what appears to be a mini-boulder of ice/snow, and barely counterbalances. It would /not/ be nice to land nose-first in this nasty, gunky mess. "Okay, so this /definitely/ came from higher up," he mutters. "'Cause. You know. This kinda sucks. We get /debris/, now." Unhappy, he trudges in the direction of the infirmary. "Sandbags, indeed. We still need to shut the fardling doors."

Sinead chuckles at Miria. "Well, not to thise extent Miria, dear," she points out before wrapping her scarf tighter about her face. "This is SO gross!" Hey, she's allowed to complain every now and then. As Tekin tells her what to do she does and heads in the suggested direction.

Trajan wades through the water, trying, for the most part, to ignore the stinging cold biting through his clothing. Hey, he works in the kitchens around ovens and hot things. He doesn't need to be wearing think clothes /inside/. He follows the others though, quite set on helping out despite the more disturbing matter of the stinkiness.

One foot lifted the other foot down, then the other foot lifted and the first foot that was lifted goes down. And on and on this goes. Not easy to walk through mud. Pure disgust is ever present on the messengers face.. "Not as bad here." She states and then snorts a bit. "Still hard to move." She shrugs her shoulders and peers about, ready to get down to business.
[OOC:] Laytai dies. That was me!

Residents, some sleepy, others wide-awake, emerge from various areas of the room. Wide eyes spotting the mud and mumbled comments of disbelief are given as mud begins to trickle through, the same putrid stentch carried along, other Riders and residents coming in from the Living Caverns, mud collecting around their ankles, leaving some areas covered in the mud and others untouched.

Lis takes her place next to the apprentices, lugging sandbags mechanically and shoving them into place against the water. It occupies her mind, though she shivers from more than the icy water, which leathers keep from chilling her through just yet. Blind work of muscle helps blank out the awkward incompetence trembling hands show, when not carrying bags.

"I. Am. Not. -Happy.-" That would be Siannen, trudging through the muck. Squeak! "S'deeper, -and- it's cold.. " Infirmary is eyed, and she nods at Ike's suggestion. "Sandbags won' do any good unless the doors're closed.. " Somewhow. And so that's the direction she slushes towards, grumbling quietly.

Larnat merely keeps to herself, lifting her feet up in a very adolescent effort to dodge the slush and such. Baker Sr. Apprentice mute, Larnie focuses on trying to keep care of herself. Even if a careful ear was listening to her, they'd only catch the odd murmur of "Cold," here and tehn.

Miria takes her place where Tekin tells her to, assisting the random resident who looks like they're having a hard time, but staying in the general area of where she's supposed to be. Awaiting orders, Miria stands against the wall to steady herself, lest mud splash against her so much that she loses her balance. "Not much time to be happy right now," she replies to Siannen's rather unhappy remark.

Pyrene makes a face. "It is cold…" she mutters, casting a quick eye over the others. "And we're not all in boots." Not waterproof ones anyway. Her own feet are wet. "Kariel's going to be grumpy enough over the infirmary - let's not mob him with colds too." Moving away from the heavy lifting of sandbags (she's already carrying a heavy toddler!) she beckons Larnat and Laytai after her as she paces towards some storage cupboards. "We need to find some more boots… blankets… anything! And somewhere dry to put people! What's up from here?"

Tiler moves in from the Caverns.

Sinead nods. "I'm thinking none of us are happy," she notes as she peers down at her boots, quite grateful they are what they are. She too assists the odd person where need be, if they're struggling or what not.

Sii'kyn glances up at Py. "Quiet corners," he amusedly states. "We can huddle them all in the 'corners. That will be amusing." Jumping outside a rather thick puddle of the muck. "Ha. Out of it." Mrowrl. He grabs a sandbag, and heave-ho's, stacking them with skill coming from firestone-bag toss against the candidate barrack's doorway.

There's a rush to fill Pyrene's orders, people stepping up to divide the people watching and those standing dumbfounded into groups of sandbaggers. Piles already beginning near the infirmary while others head further down the Inner Caverns, rousing sleeping people and pulling them into the efforts at hand. Mud continues to flow, at a slow, nearly legarthic pace, easily beat if people were to hurry.

Tekin is luckily wearing his knee-high boots and the muddy cold waters doesn't bother him as much as his wet clothes does. Spotting an idle Miria, he points to the infirmary and sandbags. "Miria! Help with that," he shouts, taking the arm of an elderly woman with a very confused look on her face. "This way, ma'am.. Everything'll be alright. Here, let V'king help you out," he continues in a calm tone, handing the woman over to a bluerider.

Larnat, given motivation for the moment, surges over to where Pyrene is, and peers at the storage cabinets only momentarily, before giving a questioning eyebrow-raise, which is mean to ask something of Pyrene. "Can we go ahead and ransack these?" most likely. "Stupid muck," she growls to herself, and firelizard creels of agreement echo from her shoulders.

Lis looks over at Pyrene after she drops another sandbag into place, smearing an errant splash of mud from her eye. "What about the crafter's place? It's up a flight of stairs… should be safe." Well, from everything but irate crafters.

"Worse then making runs in the dead winter…" Laytai complains to herself, wincing as her pants make squishing sounds as she moves. Attention is grabbed as she notices Pyrene. Letting out a few more grumbles, the messenger girl bites her lip and goes forth. "Should have enough dry things." She states. "People can always donate if worse come to worse." 'Reaches is a very loving Weyr, after all. As she talks Laytai looks about in the straoge cabinets. "Should we take whatever dry and clean things we have and put them somewhere safe?" She asks, head tilted.

Pyrene shrugs back. "We can stick 'em all in the galleries at a pinch." She winces then. "Oh, heck… the Hatching Sands will be a nightmare to clean out…" Her eyes unfocus briefly and there are a few moments of inattention before she glances to Larnat. "Ransack away! Salvage anything the mud hasn't got into yet, and move it upstairs to the quiet corners. Might be best to sleep in there tonight if you're in one of the lower dorms." At least the weyr is multilevel. Only part of it is likely to be inconvenienced.

Sinead stands and continues to be off assitance to the odd people who've fallen, she's here, ready to be shouted at to do this, or that. Seh grins as she watches her younger sister get to doing as she's been told. Wee! work….

"Yessir," Miria replies as she proceeds to go and help sandbag the infirmary. Now that she thinks about dry and clean things… her face looks a little bit less energetic. There goes her sweet stash and her klah mugs and her cot and… well, almost everything she's got on and under that cot of hers. Piling up sandbags with those well-developed guard recruit's muscles (it's probably a good thing now she's one of 'em), she snorts. Dry things she will certainly NOT have by this point. At the mention of sleeping quarters, her eyes flicker to Sinead. "Hey… uh… what /are/ we going to do about quarters for the guards? We do hafta sleep, you know."

Sinead offers a shrug to her sibling. "I have no idea, I suppose we'll be crashing with the residents until the barracks are cleaned up."

Tiler goes home.

Siannen finally trudges out of the infirmary, followed by a slew of apprentices who're soon set to sandbagging. All of them look more than a little worse for the wear, but she makes her report in the general direction of Ike and Py, as those two seem to be directing things.. at least at times. "'firmary.. doors.. we all got'm closed. Shouldn't be comin' in from there, anymore." Now it's just a matter of keeping it from getting in from -this- side of things, and clearing out what muck and debris have already been let in..

Lift, trudge, drop. Lis works repetitiously, her mind gripping the rails of the organized activity. To do any less would be to slip off into the same disturbing entropy from before. The greenrider drops the sand bags into place with a tired sigh. Perhaps this is one night they'll all be too tired for the usual mind-numbing debauchery.

Tekin overhears Sinead and Miria speaking and takes a couple of steps over to join them, leaning close, "we'll worry about /that/ when we're done here, ladies," he says in a commanding whispers, glancing from one to the other through narrowed eyes. "Some of the guards are already trying to shore up with sandbag, so let's not worry about it now, hear?" Straightning, he stands with fists jammed at his hips for a moment, then nods and moves off to continue escorting people outside.

Larnat throws open the doors rather violently in her haste, picking out boots, blankets, anything that seems of use and hoisting it onto dry shoulders. Murmuring to herself all the while, it continues to pile up. "Where're we taking this again, Pyrene?" she asks from beneath the…err, mountain-load of items.

Pyrene pauses, bearing her own burden of blankets, to squeeze Lis' shoulder. "C'mon, love," she murmurs softly. "Keep awake for me." She gestures vaguely to a small spiral staircase. "Up there… get dry blankets, pillows and boots up there. Anything you can find!" She glances to Ike, trying to see how the sandbagging is going.

Laytai follows Larnat's example and grabs mainly at the pillow and blankets. Though having one injured arm does make the process a little more difficult. "First the quakes, then this." She sniffs and turns about. Foot is tapped, though it is hard to see because of the mud sloshed up, around her. She nods to Pyrene and looks to Larnat. "'ll follow you, then." Arms are shifted a bit, as the slight weight becomes rather uncomfortable.

Lis does her best to keep up, bolstered by Pyrene's attention, another sandbag slung in her arms and piled against the water. The race between their sandbagging efforts and the water's invasion isn't tight yet, but the water knows no fatigue.

Miria sandbags. And sandbags. Heck, she even sandbags more. Piling sandbag upon sandbag, she suddenly gets yet /another/ idea into her head, as she notices the infirmary being blocked off. "How are we going to get into the infirmary if we have to use it? The bowl entrance will be mud-blocked, and this one likely will be too…"

Sinead moves to where the dry blankets, boots and what not are and starts getting them up to the quiet corners before she turns to help with sandbagging.

Sii'kyn s'mutters. The sandbagging's going - well. Most of the doorways are, by now, blocked off from the mudslide. He stacks the last one to the candidate barracks door, and leans back, muttering and huffing and puffing. Exhaustion, when you're doing it with only one arm… "Up - up - up! C'mon, ya'll, we need to rest. It's okay. Grab blankets, everyone!" He grabs a blanket or two, himself, and shuffles up the steps.

Sii'kyn slips up the narrow and spiralling stairs.
Laytai slips up the narrow and spiralling stairs.
Siannen slips up the narrow and spiralling stairs.
Larnat slips up the narrow and spiralling stairs.

Pyrene winks at Miria. "We'll throw sick people over it. Just stop where you are… that's still manageable…" And then she heads up the stairs, half-tugging Lis after her.

Narrow stone steps lead steeply upwards… but not too far.
Quiet Corners
Thick woolen tapestries dull the noise from the rest of the caverns, turning this well-lit little room into a welcome escape. The stairs up place it against the bowl wall somewhere above the living caverns, carpeted against the winters chill or left as cool stone floor in summer. Some high and narrow windows can be opened to the world outside, or secured with their heavy metal-sided shutters and blue-threaded curtains.
Glowlight gleams, brightening the well-cushioned stone couches and lighting the weyr residents half-finished projects: knitting undone, sewing only started, leathers being worked soft, and even a hide of sketches or half-finished Thread-chart spread out across one of the tables.
Curled up amongst the baskets of wool is a blue firelizard.
Sii'kyn, Laytai, Siannen, and Larnat are here.

Inner Caverns> Lis has no choice - up she goes, sandbag barely dropped in time.
Lis comes up the stairs.

Larnat staggers under her load, giving frantic little head-butts to her pile of blankets to avoid them collapsing on her, as she pops into the Quiet Corners. "Urgh. This was all I could carry," comes her muffled words from underneath a boot slipping from its proper position. "Where do I put them?" comes next, as her feet threaten to entangle themselves. Eep.

Inner Caverns> Tekin glancing from one guard to the other, nodding with satisfaction that they're doing a good job. "Ead… I'll go check on the barracks," he tells the senior of the two and turns on a heel to walk out with brisk steps.

Inner Caverns> Sinead stops what she's doing, doing as requested. She then stands and waits as people file up the stairs, into the quiet corners, where it's drier than everywhere else right now.
Sinead comes up the stairs.

Inner Caverns> Tekin continues on into the large living caverns.

Miria comes up the stairs.

Laytai clambers up the stairs, load still in arms. A look goes to each person as she tilts her head in question. "Should we just…drop it all?" She asks, looking doubtfull at the ground, as it starts to get dirty from all the people. "No..no..not drop. Not clean then." And clean was one thing a lot of people will be needing. Clean and warm.

Lis wanders around a bit now that she's not got a task to occupy herself with, nearly tripped over by another weyrfolk coming up the stairs with their own bundle. She does offer to help, though the gesture is accepted grudingly.

Pyrene dumps Pidgery onto a chair, stripping off his wet clothes and wrapping him in a blanket. "Makeshift beds on the floor," she determines. "Don't have to be particularly neat or comfortable. They're dry and it doesn't smell as bad in here - don't suppose anybody found some sweet candles? And if your clothes are wet, /change/!" Setting a good example, she strips off her own trous, and pulls on a dry (if too big) pair that were brought up among the miscellany.

Sinead removes her boots before she gets more than two steps into the room. Leaving them at the door she wanders further on, and, is quite glad her own trous get tucked into her boots, therefore, they are clean.

After laying down a last sandbag, Miria comes up with an armful of blankets and boot pairs, barely able to see over the heap. "Where… can… I put this…?" she inquires, struggling to keep the whole mess from toppling. Finding another vacant chair, Mir dumps her bunch of clothes, blankets, and boots onto the chair, and strips out of her guard boots and trousers (revealing a pair of bikini bottoms almost always worn- there's the issue of water rescues, don'tchaknow). Pulling a pair of black trousers (a bit baggy) and rather scuffed black boots almost identical to the dirty pair she's got, she quickly pulls them on.

Siannen is coated in muck up to.. about her knees, as well as most of one side - looks like someone wasn't entirely lucky, when wrestling with that door - and as such, she drags.. essentially just herself up the stairs. Wouldn't want to get everyone else all dirty and gross as well, now would we? Clothes are shed, and replaced with a tunic far too large for anything but a nightshirt. "Shardit. I hate being short.. "

Trajan comes up the stairs.

Sii'kyn is relatively dry. Heavy, waterproofed leathers kept him dry, relatively. Yeah. Relatively. Good word. He slinks towards the nearest blanket-stack, and wraps blankets mechanically about residents. "Uh. So, we've got flooding," he contemplatively states. "Um. Ya'll? What about the herd?" Silver-grey eyes flick left and right. "I don't want to know how nasty it is in the pens right now…"

Laytai looks about and finds a nice, not-so-dirty spot to deposit her load. Boots are looked on as she sits herself down and sets to prying them off. Looking among the piles, she locates one boot. A breath is hissed out through her teeth as she crawls around from one heap to another, looking for the boot's mate. Victory crys are heard as she holds up the missing link to the pair. With a grunt she pulls on the warm, dry boots and scrambles back to her feet, not bothering to changed her rather damp pants.

Pyrene pauses in the middle of tightening her belt and winces at Ike. "The llamas? Oh, shells." Too much to do… Fussing about she identifies a pair of waterproof boots. "Let's go see if they need any help down there then," she sighs, lashing Pidgery to her back once more - she'd leave him behind, but she wants to know he's in good hands, and she only trusts herself when it comes to child-raising. "Anybody willing to face the mud again, make sure you're wearing the correct footwear first!" And no going into the water if you've eaten in the last half-hour….

Lis goes home.

Siannen is fine in the footwear department - it's the everywhere else department that has trouble. "I'll go, Py.. if.. someone can find me a pair of pants.. " That doesn't require extensive modifications to keep from falling or tripping her up. Bah.

Pyrene throws Siannen a pair of boxers and a belt. "You'll have to make do, pet," she advises her with a tired wink.

Laytai lifts a hand. "I'll go too. Wanna check up on the runners." And her poor feline which she left, sleeping, in the bowl. Boots are tied and toes are wiggled as she reels in the warmth and dry-ness.

Sii'kyn goes home.

Siannen suits up, somehow managing to only look vaguely ridiculous as she prepares to exit this tiny bit of sanctuary. "I guess it's now or never, eh Py?"

"Uh… I'll stay, if you don't mind. Wanna help get everything set up for whatever residents we can fit inside here," Miria explains as she starts helping set things up, placing things by walls and setting up a few places to sleep.

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