Aladden becomes a Candidate

October 27th 2002
Logged by Fyria

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-nine firelizards.
You see OOC NOTICE (look sign), Llaammaa, Ischoria, Thief, Tamrin, and Tieran here.
Wyn, Ashli, Miria, and Aladden are here.

Zia strides in from the Central Bowl.

Miria grins in her mildly shivery state. "Heh heh- Larnat strikes me as more of a…" Shniffle. "…brown or blue person, though I dunno what she'll Impress in the end, if she does." Today, instead of giant glugs, Miria takes baby sips of her klah. Sniffles do slow you down some… "Oi, Ashli, that'd be wonderful." The meatroll is gladly taken from the lass and chomped upon. "Queens are nifty, though. Very… uh… big. And gold." Yup.

Pausing at the door, Aladden takes note of the people currently present with a brief nod of his head, twisting a scrap of linen in his hands. All this flurry over dragon babies. "Golds probably take a lot fo scrubbing." He puts in, though he doens't know a thing about it. "Don't they?" He asks the cavern in general, for once not at all reticient about showing interest in something other than a scroll or a plant.

"I cannot quite see her on green," grants Wyn, sipping at her steaming mug. "And indeed, there is the possibility of a gold egg. I predict that should one hatch, it hatches from one of the more purple eggs, just to spite us all. Hullo Miria. And Fyria and Zia." Cheerful, if restrained, waves are offered all around.

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum.. skiiiiiiiiiiiiiid, stop. Zia has made her entrance, first by galloping merrily in from the bowl and then sliding to a stop before she collides with the Serving Trays. Rubbing her hands together gleefully, she surveys the goods before her before flipping a plate into her palm and plucking some food from here, a tasty treat from there, and a rather hefty mug of ale from right theeeere. A few swivels of her head allows her to find an empty spot jammed over near Miria and Co, which she neatly jimmies into. "'Allo, all.. Got the sniffles, eh?" Trust her to just butt in on everything. "Bad things, them sniffles. Kept me in bed all winter, y'know." Or maybe that was her aversion to standing out in the cold. Eh. Whatever works.

"I am going to eat whatever I darn well please, regardless of /what/ you /or/ Kariel say! And /that/ is the final word!" Fyria tosses a glare towards the bowl - an answering snort is heard, followed by a blue tail poking it's tip through the entryway. "OUT!" Fy waves at the tail, which retreats quickly, only to groan as she puts a hand to her lower back. "Someone shoot me. Now." Glares are given towards riders and weyrfolk alike as she makes for the food table, helping herself to not one, not 2, but /4/ creampuffs. Idle waves are offered with cream-tipped fingers as she helps herself to a seat near Wyn and Miria. "Dragons. Just say no."

Laytai slinks in with an aura of authority in from the Central Bowl.

"Naah, I just jumped in the FREEZING COLD LAKE with another guard to save this really, really pudgy woman who couldn't swim. Honestly, everybody should learn. 'Least she's oka… aaaa… CHOO!" There's an exercise in the aerodynamics of snot. Instead of a hello, it's more of a loud sneeze that Miria extends to Fyria and Zia, but she follows up with proper greetings. "H'lo, Zia, Fy… Shards, Fy, we need to talk more," she half-insists to her blueriding pal. "It's been too long." Everybody say 'yay' now.

Aladden is all innocence as he asks Fyria, "Why would we shoot you?" Head is tilted to one side, and he steps further into the cavern, concern flitting across his face. He fidgets a little, trying to figure out where to seat himself. Miria gets a choked laugh. "How'd you get her out?"

"Someone large and blue attempting to modify your diet?" queries Wyn serenely, nudging the plate of cookies in front of her closer to her gravid clutchmate. Just in case Fy should be tempted to lunge for them. "You ought to tell him that its' better to indulge cravings when they first occur, rather than denying yourself and binging later…" the ex-Healer advises, interlacing her fingers and calmly placing them around her mug. "So… how are things developing?"

Laytai slinks into the Caverns, giving the place a once over before finding the nearest chair and settling into it. One boot is pried off as her foot is rubbed. "Sharditall, only bloody mornin' and m'feet are killing me." With boot in hand, Laytai pushes up and off the chair, walking with an uneven gait over to the small crowd. "Mmm..g'day." She mummbles and gives a curt nod to all those she knows. Though Aladden gets a glance and a raise of the eyebrow.

Fyria points to her belly. "Have a word with the blue boy in regards to that, Mirs, but you're right. It /has/ been too long. And from the sound of it, you've been busy beyond belief, eh?" She finishes off one creampuff as her tea arrives, pondering number 3 with bright, dark eyes. Of course, then Wyn decides to shove /cookies/ towards her. "Big. That's how things are developing. Can't you tell?" Belly is pointed at as she flashes a blank look at Aladden. "I'm fine, I'm fine… just grumpy, as you'd be if you had to carry around a glowbasket on your belly all day. 'Course, you're a /guy/, so you don't have to /worry/ about such things… " And we all know it was a guy that got her into this mess in the first place. Ah, hormonal bitterness.

Zia peers over at Fyria, sinking her teeth into a piece of fruit. Yeah, she drinks a lot, but at least she has a good diet. Yay. "Whoa, Fy. You're really packin' on the pounds. Y'look good, though. Y'know, that's why I'll never have kids." Because everyone wants to hear about it, she's sure. "Some people look fine when they're all round and such. Me? I'm so short I'd look like an egg. I don't think that's very attractive. Anyway, here." She fishes around in the depths of her pockets for a moment before coming up with a handful of wrapped sweets. "I picked these up when I was in Ista yesterday."

Aladden smiles tentatively at Fyria. Yep, he's a guy, and doesn't have to worry about it. Thank Faranth. "I suppose I would. Maybe you could have someone massage your back for you." Namely the guy whose fault the glowbasket is. Laytai is given a shrug in return to her eyebrow. "You'll be relieved when the baby is born, though. No more glowbasket."

"Myself, I think I shall avoid children because I'd make a horrible mother." avers Wyn. "My maternal instincts were tragically lost in an early-childhood accident, I believe. But I'll do my best to be a suitable aunt." she assures. Oddly, in her books Grumpy Fyria is preferable to the alternative, because the alternative keeps trying to matchmake. "So, Zia, rarely-seen clutchsib mine. How has Diulnyth been keeping you?"

"You do look good, Fyria, yep." This coming from the guard-who-invariably-doesn't-look-too-good with a veritable turban of a towel around her head, also known as Miria. "Hey, if you have a craving for sweets, call on me… don't tell anybody else, but…" She looks around the caverns furtively. "I have a stash under my cot in the barracks. Feel free to ask anytime." Wink wink! She leans upon the closest tabletop and resumes her klah-sipping, glad that she's mostly dry.

Boot is placed on the table, as Laytai pulls back a chair and falls into it. "Talking 'bout the soon to be new additions, eh?" She says, giving a light shrug before peering at Fyria. "When are ya due, anyway?" Headtilt is given at the innocent comment, not to disturbed by the blueriders grumpiness. Though her attention lasts at that for only a moment, before she switches to Aladden, curiosity getting the better of her. "Don't believe I've met ya yet. Though you look firmilar, I can't place it." Shaking her head to disregard that thought, she leans towards the boy. "Laytai, Messenger. And you'd be?"

Ashli finally pipes up from where she stands, having been happily chewing on a meatroll. "Hihi!!" is chirped brightly at anyone who cares to answer. Blue flit is scooped up, and the rest of the meatroll popped into his mouth. "Are you hoping for a girl, or a boy?" Ashli asks Fyria curiously. A girl, of course, would be the obvious answer, according to Ashli, at least, and the inflection evident in the question denote that…

Aladden eyes Laytai a long moment. Now what's she up to? Nothing, probably, but it never hurts to be suspicious for people who like to give chores. Laytai might be one of those. "Aladden. Chief Chore Avoider." Sage nod. That title was hard to get, and he intends to keep it.

Fyria graces Zia with a death-glare, only to grab a creampuff and fling it towards her wingmate. Fear the Creampuff of Doom! "Bend a tail, Zia." And that's that. Of course, she imagines Zia as an egg - and breaks into a giggle, before wilting at the mention of Ista. "Shards, I miss traveling ::between:: to the islands. I miss flying Thread. Rar.. .gimme that…" She snatches a cookie and nibbles, irritably before blinking at Aladden again. "Oh? And are we volunteering to massage my back for me - or better yet, babysit this glowbasket to be for me?" Glare. Fy shrugs at Laytai, answering "Soon, is all I hope. A few more months, I believe. I /hope/…" No way does she plan on going through life as an egg-ish object. No no.

Wyn, who's being ignored, doesn't seem terribly upset about this fact. She simply sips her cider, sneaks a cookie from Fyria's plate, and nibbles it quietly, grey eyes dancing as she settles into the comfortable and familiar role of people-watcher. We are amused.

Aladden gives Fyria a wary stare. "Backrub, yes. Babysit, not even if you threatened to stake me out in Threadfall. If it can't walk, talk, feed itself, and poop on its own, I'm not touching it." And that's final, no negotiation. he shifts in his chair, eyeing up the drudges - or rather, what's on their platters. "I'm hungry." He notes to no one in particular, and hops up to go find himself some food.

Zia catches the creampuff square between the eyes, smirking drolly as it drops lifelessly to the ground. "I always said you had good aim, Fyria dearest. As for Diulnyth, Wynnie, he's just brill. He gets faster and faster every day. He likes to race the greens around the spires and back - Unfortunately, beating them doesn't win him many admirers." Sparkle. Zia just glows as she discusses her Big Blue Hunk o' Lovin'. "Glowbasket to be? More like a screaming hunk of red, wrinkly flesh that will almost certainly be dumped into Kariel's hands as soon as you hear those little lungs work!"

Laytai is normally only prone to give more chores and runs to her fellow Messengers, since quite a few of them need some whipping into shape. Eyes widen a bit as a smirk forms. "Oh, aye. I know you. Well, heard of you more so," Hand is flicked before it lays down on the table. "Ajala's brother, correct? Thought you looked a little like her. Got some of the same feaures, though I could be wrong. That girl talks of you quite a bit." Laytai leans back on the chair, letting it stand on only two legs. "Planning on more after that one, Fyria? Or are y'gonna be done?" Grin. Laytai is yet another one of the many who refuse to ever have spawn.

Ashli blinks at Fyria, and grins at Aladden. Heehee. "I think kidlets are cute." Well, of course, she almost /has/ to think that. Being one of them herself. Mostly. Ashli tilts her head to the side, as if suddenly remembering something, and abruptly darts off, with a quick wave, "G'bye!" And…voila. One hasty retreat.

"Aye, grab me a napkin while you're up, Aladden?" Fyria suddenly gets a sweet expression on her face, complete with finger waggle towards the boy. She snags another cookie and snerks at Wyn: "Just you wait too, Miss Wyn. Especially if someone decides to get a little more attached…" Her voice sing-songs towards the end only until she turns a rather dour look on Zia. "One creampuff not enough, Zia?" she threatens, before adding "And fortunately, Kariel would be all to pleased to do that…" Her expression softens again at his name, eyes going dark with obvious love for her weyrmate. Fy shakes herself free though, and stares at Laytai. "I say no more - but of course, I said I'd never have kids to begin with." Eh.

Siren arrives from deeper in the Weyr.

"That /someone/ you're speaking of," drawls Wyn to Fyria with a distinct hint of Drop It Now in her gaze. "Is now apparently avoiding me because I've regained the upper hand. I freely admit to liking this." A soft snort, and she bites another cookie in half much more firmly than necessary, and smiles serenely at Zia. "Mmm, better than Vorkoroth… he prefers to match wits with the girls, and get them irked at him that way."

Rumbles are heard outside, and the flap across the opening billows a bit. Once. Twice. Whuffs of warm air are blown into the cavern, nearly toppling over a 2-Turn old, who finds this incredibly amusing. Suddenly, a blue snout pokes through the opening, nostrils flaring before another ground-trembling rumble is heard. *rumble rumble*

Because he's a nice sort, Aladden comes over with the napkin - though he eyes Fyria suspiciously a long moment as he hands it to her. He smiles at Laytai. "That's the one. so, she brags about me, does she? Tsk."

Zia chuckles wryly at the talk of relationships, lip lifting in a slight smirk. "You silly girls.. Relationships are so overrated. I intent to get out of mine before anymore of this talk of Weyrmating and baby-making gets out of hand. I say NEVER!" And the creampuff, dead and deflated as it is, is launched back in Fyria's direction.

<Local> Urzketh senses that he mentally rolls a curious tendril or two of shining silver towards somewhere, only to echo, loudly: « You should /not/ be eating that, Fyria. »

Miria grins. "Never heard of a blue dragon that liked to irk the ladies- normally I'd think they'd butter 'em up so as to make the woman an easier catch." As Zia makes the comment about relationships, she pipes up, "Oh, I agree- much better to use 'em and lose 'em than to stick with one, or not do it at all. It's a freedom thing, y'know?" Blinking as a bit of dampness gets into her eyes, the guard /just/ misses the creampuff launching.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Vorkoroth offers a dryly amused trail of navy bubbles, aimed to disrupt the silvery tendrils. «Oh leave yours be, Urzketh… she'll only eat more to spite you.»

Aladden peers over his shoulder, watching the puff fly. "Cook's gonna be /mad/…" he mutters, ducking out of the way of that big deflated puff's path, covering giggles with his hand - only to grab his plate as he remembers he has one. No wasting food he needs to grow. against the rules.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Diulnyth trumpets traffic-light green around him, designed to shatter rather than disrupt. « Yeah, what Vor said. 'Sides, maybe you shoulda been a lil' more strict wit her before, ehhhhh…? » Winkwink nudgenudge.

Laytai lets forth a large smile, which is a rare thing for Laytai. "Aye, she does. Really cares 'bout'cha. Your lucky to have such a nice sister." Let alone only having -one- sister instead of a gigantic hoard of siblings. "Miria, didn't see you over there." Hand is waved about, before she rises to her feet. Shuffling over and pouring herself a mug of klah, before regaining her previous seat. With a tentive blow at the liquid, Laytai takes a cautious sip and watches the launching of food. Some things never change.

Siren traipses into the caverns just in time to catch the most interesting parts of conversations, now doesn't she? Precocious 8-turn-old snorts at Miria's phrasing, and adds, "That's the easiest way t'get yourself in some -big- trouble, ya know." Straggling locks of hair are flicked out of her eyes, as she eyes the guard, "That's how y'get kids like me, y'know." She knows her parents were never meant to be together, just as they do. She likes it oh-so-much-better that way, too.

Fyria tilts her head sideways, watching the creampuff fly by and splat against the wall. "Nice aim, Zia. Good thing Di's aim is better during Threadfall." She sticks her tongue out impishly at the girl - only to stare at the entrance. And stare. And stare. "Get /out/!!!" Fy grabs the last, forlorn creampuff and flings it towards the blue, obviously Urzketh's, snout - of course, her throw is short and the pastry lands with a splat upon the ground. "BAH. You… Aladden - go shove his snoutt out of here and tell him to /leave me alone/…." Fy points at Aladden, then wiggles her finger towards the still-whuffling bit of blueness in the doorway. "Urk, you remember the /last/ time you tried to get in here!"

Aladden grins mischevously. "Don't tell her I said this, but I am lucky!" He eyes the big nose and shudders at the rumbling. " Why should I go over there? He's bigger'n me." Shuffle, shuffle.

Urzketh's snout whuffs, pauses, sniffs, whuffs again, and scratching sounds can be heard outside through the stone. Sniffle sniffle… Let me /in/.

Zia eyes Urk suspiciously, glancing at Fyria before flicking her gaze back to the entrance. "If he flames us all, Fyria, you're buying me new leathers. Aladden, you'd best do as she says. Urk has a temper on him. Just as bad as his Rider, really. But without the stomach." Beam.

"Maybe. But there's green stuff, y'know," is Mir's reply to Siren, tappity-tapping her foot on the ground, rather content, before… "Whoa… He does know he won't fit in here, doesn't he?" Twitch twitch goes the Miria, eyeing the blue dragon with a bit of a nervous tinge to her gaze. "'Cuz he'd get stuck, a'course, if he tried to wedge in too far."

Uhhuh. "His stomach's bigger. Makes at least thirty of hers." Aladden mutters, shuffling sideways - first towards, then away from the big nose. "what's his name, anyway? Can't go shoving on an intelligent being's nose without calling him by name." Not that he's moving any faster towards the blue.

Laytai turns to the Cavern's enterance. "How many dragons /have/ gotten stuck in that doorway?" Laytai ponders allowed, she's a lot more vocal then she normally is. "I've heard of a few stories of a brown or whatnot having his head stuck and having a lot of residents and 'riders to help him escape." But that just a story afterall, she could be mistaken. "Someone should start to keep track." Just for the amusement of others.

Siren eyes the entrance-obscuring snout, and just.. stares. "Jays, Fyria.. your dragon's stupid." Miria is snorted at again, "Doesn't allus work for everybody, though. Just ask /her/." And with that inflection, the female in question is no doubt Siren's mum. "Shading stupid redfruit-for-a-brain, Aladden! That works just as well as any.. "

"His /name/ is Urzketh, though his /personality/ is blue lump of firestone - get OUT Urzketh!" Fyria flings a crumb at the entryway, shooing Aladden towards the whuffling snout. "He won't bite, he won't flame… well, maybe except /Zia/…" Idle glare is given towards Zia. "Just put your hands on his snout, and shove him out. Last time, he got stuck in the doorway, and /I/ got reamed out by Lylia." Fy pauses a moment, with a curious expression on her face, eyes somewhat glazed.

Yarid arrives from deeper in the Weyr.
Yarid glances aroung the room, and spots Sutekh in a corner, where he'd flown after popping in from between. "Figures I'd find you here,

Urzketh's snout pauses in his snufflings as Aladden approaches, only to begin whuffling with renewed interest. He flicks his tongue out towards the boy. Flick. Yum. Dragon slobber. Where's mah /rider/.

Yarid calls to Sutekh, who flies over and lands on his shoulder.

Aladden laughs at Siren. "All right, I'll try that." And with much false bravado - does anyone see his knees shaking? - he moves over to the blue. "Alright, Urzketh of the blue lump of firestone personality, get out. Yeeow!" he leaps back as the tongue comes out to lick him. "Stop that, or I'll sew it to the roof of yer mouth, you!"

Siren whoops, pumping her arms as she cheers for Aladden. "That's the spirit! Threats are always the way to go!" Fyria is eyed, and the ultra-mini redhead just shakes her head. "Did he ever like.. trip and land onhis head as a hatchling, or something? There's somethin' -wrong- with your dragon.. "

"Can he push that gigantic nose out?…" Miria has to arch an eyebrow at this. "Maybe he will, maybe he won't… let's see if Urk gives." With that, she sits back and contentedly watches this rather amusing event, sipping quietly at her klah whilst her hair drips.

Yarid exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

Laytai wraps both hands around her mug of klah, relishing in the slight warmth being bringing it up to meet her lips. Taking a small sip, she just watches Aladden vs. Urzketh. Head is tilted as she looks back at Miria. "Bet he'ss be able to move the blue a'least a bit. Depending." Depending on what, who knows.

Fyria shakes herself out of her stupor, and indeed catches /that/ Siren comment. "Did I mention he has a taste for redheads, toasted, on a stick?" Fyria smiles sweetly at the girl prior to staring at the still-whuffling snout again. "Eh?" Blankness again. "Bah. What do /you/ know. You can barely - /ohhhhh/…." Fyria looks thoughtful as she rubs her lower back for a moment, blinking from Aladden, to Urzketh, to Aladden, to Urzketh again. "For real?"

Urzketh's tongue flicks out again towards Aladden, followed by another quick whuffle. He snorts long and deep - trying to inhale Siren, perhaps? - only to give a low rumble, then promptly withdraws his snout.

Aladden wirls to eye Fyria with lifted brow. "For real, what? He wants to eat Siren? And why was he trying to lick me? Doe she think I'm a giant sweetstick, or somethin?" He knows he's a skinny runt, but he can't be mistaken for a sweetstick. "And I will sew his tongue to his lip if he tries licking me again." Pout. Huff. "What's his problem, anyroad?

Siren quips back, "Can't be any worse than when Nez decided t'cage me." Intimidating though the snort may be, Si' just rolls her eyes. Then brightens. "Look, Fyria! Maybe there is a dim glimmer of intelligence lurking in that ever-so-large (and empty) skull of his!" Yes. That's a very backward, very sarcastic pseudo-compliment. Heh.

Miria eyes Siren with ever-so-slightly narrowed eyes. "I remember the Nezdarvyth incident all too well… b'lieve you rightfully deserved it, too." Ever since /that/ happened, she's been slightly more careful around weyrbrats. "Honestly." Shaking her head, she turns to Fyria. "He always do this? Try to stick as much of himself as possible into the caverns?"

"Ah, see." Laytai smirks, "I was right." Kind of. A look goes over to the little bratlet. She cackles quietly and beams at Siren. "Cute kid." Laytai brings her mug back up and looks over the top at Siren, then back to Aladden.

Fyria narrows her eyes at Siren. "Siren… you.. have something…" Fyria makes wiping motions beneath her nose, indicating that Siren /may/ have a rather nasty ornament hanging from hers. Cue the innocent little grin. But, back to business. "Well, Aladden. Looks like you did it. Unfortunately, Urzketh wants to take you with him, it seems, and isn't budging from the bowl until you agree to Stand for the pile of eggs out on the Sands. And considering I could use you to for backrubs when Kare's working, I'm not letting you /say/ no." Lips twitch into a half-smile as she adds "And my dear, I'd highly suggest against trying to sew his lip. Unless you want folks to see through you. Literally." Fy drops her gaze to Miria and says, stoically "My dear, you don't know the /half/ of it…" She looks expectantly back towards Aladden.

Aladden is goggle eyes. "Me? Ah..why?" He shuffles. "Out there?" Squeek.

A rumble is heard from the bowl. Of course you, ya goob.

Aladden is a goob. And is a goggle-eyed goob, at that. But he's not such a goob that he's going to refuse outright. Ajala would kick him. "I'll stand. On one condition." false bravado again: his knees are wobbling again.

Siren has certain opinions about Fyria's weyrmate, but it seems the girl is content with the extent of her insults, for the time being. Ahem. Back-of-hand is scrubbed 'crosss the bottom of her nose, and Siren then inspects it.. hmm. Nothing new. Oh well. "All clear! Mebbe y'need t'get your eyes checked as well, hmm?" Uh. Maybe she's not so good at keeping her mouth shut, after all.

Rowann pulls a chair up to a table, eyes blaknly staring at an empty mug sitting atop the bench. Blue-green eyes narrow, Rowann decidely picks up the mug and marches to refill it with steaming Klah. After a long sip, her frown ceases, though returns as she watches the young man toy with the idea of search. A soft giggle escapes from her mouth, was that her? No… couldn't have been. Regardless, the 'Reachian looks on wondering if the poor thing knows what he's getting himself into. Tut tut. The rest of the klah is drained from Rowann's mug, finishing with an attractive and loud slurp from Rowann's direction. The red-headed girl merely shrugs and refills her mug, sipping gently, "Aye! Hot!" Rowann blows on the mug furiously, raising one hand to touch at her reddened lips, "Shardit."

Laytai tilts her head and blinks. "Would'ya look at that.." She smirks once more, setting down her mug. "Ajala'll be estatic." And of course, Laytai will make sure that she is the first one to tell her friend of the news. It's her duty as being the best friend and all. Quickly nodding to Rowann and giving her the 'I don't know you' look, she lets the chair fall back onto all four legs.

Fyria eyes Aladden curiously. Warily, but curiously. "One condition? A lot of nerve asking a pregnant woman for conditions…" Slowly, she stands up from her chair with a mumbled stretch before waving her hand towards the bowl. "I know, I /know/, shardit! Be patient and slow /down/ for once in your blue life!" Another glare towards the bowl before she crosses her arms above her belly, and stares at Aladden. Stare.

Aladden grins wickedly. "He keeps his tongue in his head. See? Simple." Pert little creature, isn't he? "He keeps his tongue to himself, he gets to see me Stand." Nod.

Nobody here at HRW keeps their tongue to themselves. Sorry.

Somewhere, somehow, a blue dragon is crossing his talons…

Muffled laughter drifts from somewhere in the room..

Bronagh arrives from deeper in the Weyr.

Fyria snorts as she waves a hand, beckoning Aladden to follow. "His tongue will be the /least/ of your worries, m'dear…." She offers a quick wave towards the others before waddling back towards the inner depths of the weyr. "Now come on, let's ssee if I can squeeze into the barracks. This is shardin' ridiculous…" Mutters are heard as she disappears, assuming the boy will follow.

Humming is what alerts anyone listening of the approach of a certain, suave, debonair and constantly, cheekily grinning resident. Which, of course, fits Bronagh's description to a "T". He's humming because he's happy, which isn't unusual… But what unusual is just what he's humming /to/. No, it's not a gal, as some people might automatically think. Instead, it's to a rotund, currently sleeping, brown firelizard, who's curled up into a ball within the circle of Bron's arms. Obviously, the flit has just been fed, considering the size of its round tummy, and it's lethargic state. Otherwise, the young hatchling would be squawking for more food, as they are wont to do.

Aladden laughs. "That, I know. But his tongue's big enough to sleep under. Might suffocate me." He quips, trailing after the rider. For once, he even walks like he has a full spine.


Candidate Barracks
Serviceable, this low-ceiling'd room runs right and left from the heavy canvas curtains that function as a door: relatively bare of ornamentation, tidy glows light the few worn tapestries that adorn the walls and depict a variety of dragons in flight or at rest. But it is the cots, lots and lots of cots, that distinguish this room from the others, their blue or black coverlets tucked neatly over relatively fresh rushes.
Candidate's haven, this is their escape from the bustling world of chores and Weyr; visitors are welcome if invited.
Resting atop the doorframe are eleven firelizards.

Aladden escapes in from the bustling activity of caverns and Weyr.

Abu blinks in from ::between::!

Fyria idly kicks a blanket off the floor as she leads Aladden in, only to head towards a sack on the table. "Pick a cot, since you're one of the early ones - lucky you. Mind, I'd grab the softest one you can find. Granted, you won't be sleeping that much in it." Teeth glare white with mischief as she turns, bearing something in her hand. "Chores will be done, chores will be done /well/… and I'll send for those backrubs I needed. Oh, and rest assured - Urzketh will require /many/ baths, or so he has informed me."

Aladden grins again, his expression sly. "And I'm betting my chore list will be bathing Urzketh and giving you massages, right?" He'd love that, actually. "Ah, well, on't be any worse than back home." he plops don on a cot. A hard one. "Ouch. "Which is softest?" He looks around. "I hope I get to see AAjala and tell her." He looks mournful a long moment.

Fyria lifts a brow. "Ajala? Oh right right, your sister, or so Laytai had mentioned? Well - make sure you're wearing this when you see her…" If you see her, bwuahaha. Fyria tosses a white knot at him, then points towards his clothes. "I'd recommend getting some other clothes for chores, too. Unless you want to ruin those. The storage rooms are your /friend/…" She wrinkles her nose, staring towards the bowl with an annoyed expression. "Great. /Now/ he wants to go eat. Gah." Her gaze refocuses on Aladden a moment, expression just a /wee/ bit softened as she asks "Think you'll settle in nicely? Oh… and if I recall, that one there…" She points towards a cot in the corner… "That one's comfy. It was mine, you know.." Fond memories revisited, she sighs.

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