The Death of It

7th December 2004
Logged by Donis

Central Bowl
Green Kelitath, brown Piccath, brown Sevareth, brown Cvinth, green Miravith, green Veriameth, green Chrideth, green Zoryanth, green Celvynath, gold Isamath, and blue Niwath are here.
Rysta, Donis, and Eitanex are here.

Rysta is actually playing in the snow. Interesting enough, she wears a pair of mittens, a hat and a scarf along with a very heavy sweater and pair of wherhide pants. She seems quite at home in the snow as she idly makes little mounds of something on the ground.

Donis is outside in the light snow - well, under the shelter of one of the bowl's walls - well-wrapped up and polishing his flamethrower. "Having fun, Rysta?" he calls over to the other Candidate.

Cadgwith drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.
Pyrene carefully descends the cliff of Cadgwith's shoulder and foreleg until she's safely on land again.

Eitanex's actions regarding the snow are best described as "tentatively venturing." He's more bundled up than usual, which may have less to do with the cold and more to do with looking incongruous and anonymous. Although anonymous would be helped if he wasn't making brisk sketches from his position near the entrance to the caverns.

Silas would much rather be inside, sitting in front of the fire with the old aunties doing the mending. But some evil person has convinced him that he should come outside to watch the snow. And so, here he is, wearing several layers of leather and wool and fur to keep warm.

Rysta looks up as Donis speaks to her and grins at her fellow candidate. "Yes, actually. I love the snow." Okay, so color her weird. She stands and looks around noticing the others there. Her cheeks have a bit of a rosy glow to them from the brisk cold air, but she looks more then comfy standing with snowflakes falling in her hair. "What's up?"

It appears that Cadgwith is also here to watch the snow. It's still early enough in winter for that to be a novelty, particularly with draconic memory span. Pyrene is accompanying her, one would assume by the bundle of woollies that's huddled upon her neck. What may just be a red-pinched face is turned towards the candidates (and weyrbrat), idly monitoring them.

"Oh, just going to make sure this is still functioning, even though we don't need to do groundcrew when there's snow." Donis hefts up his flamethrower to shoulder-level and sights along it - towards Pyrene, which might not be a good idea.

"Mmmmph, Donis, don't shoot the weyrwoman," Eitanex mumbles from under the too-high collar of his coat, pausing mid stroke (what is he drawing? A giant snake). He turns his head to the side to sneeze before returning to his drawing with returned unconcern. Well, really, not like he /really/ thinks there will be any shooting.

"Dellena told me to come out here," Silas replies, then glances around to find the girl missing. Again. Dellena; the invisible candidate. "She /always/ does that!" Instead Sils trudges through the snow toward Donis, lifting an eyebrow underneath his fur hat, "I suppose that's /one/ advantage of living a place as cold as this… You get half the turn off from groundcrew duty.."

A definite arm is extended from heap-of-Pyrene, waving the flamethrower's aim to somewhere else, and Cadgwith rumbles to reinforce the gesture, although the gold remains quite placid and more interested in those little eddies of snow settling between her forepaws.

"Well, not quite half the Turn," Donis tells Silas, pointing the flamethrower somewhere safer, although he calls out, "I do have the safety catch on, you know!" He polishes a smear off the tank with his gloves, and slings the flamer over his shoulder. "I might go flame some snow though. Just for practice. Want a go?"

Well, safety catches are well and good. Until they /explode/. Right. Eitanex has switched his subject matter to Cadgwith, perhaps just to make Pyrene happy, assuming that would make her happy. At least, Cadgwith is remaining relatively still, which is quite polite of her.

Silas lifts a shoulder in a shrug, not quite accepting of the offer, though not quite denying it either. After all; fire = warm and snow = cold. "Wouldn't it be more fun with a target, though? Just random shots at the snow.. I dunno.."

"I'm afraid my eyes aren't quite what they used to be," Pyrene calls back to the safety catch comment. There's plainly nothing wrong with her hearing though, even with the sound-dampening effect of snow for she adds: "If you're going to flame snow, flame a serviceable path, and be sure you don't leave damp patches to turn into ice." Cadgwith is unaware of her new role as artist's model, but she's happy enough to remain where she is. Except for her head which is blithely looking around at whatever it cares to. Currently her mouth is agape with a greenish tongue lolling over her teeth, trying to taste the snow.

Donis shrugs his free shoulder at Silas. "We can flame a path free, like Pyrene suggested." He nods in the direction of the Weyrwoman, and looks around their area of the bowl, trying to decide where a path would be most useful. "Hmmm. Here, I think?" Positioning the flamethrower again, he knocks off the safety catch and takes aim towards the ground.

Flaming a path sounds too much like work, but Silas isn't going to mention that with the Weyrwoman right there supervising. "Well.. Whereto? Stables?" he notes, eyes glancing around the bowl. "Or maybe the Sands.. If the Hatching really is close, we'd want to get there in a hurry when the eggs start to crack?"

Agape mouth gets a quick sketch because it's amusing, endearing - something of the sort (is amusing and endearing the sort of thing that makes people admire and remember dragons? Gore is more /memorable/, but dragons chomping herdbeasts make the squeamish upset. Hmm) and supposes that will do, although he does try to detail the head a bit before Cadgwith moves it again. Maybe he'll do a quick flamethrowing sketch, since it's beginning to sound like Donis and Silas might be doing /that/ for a little while.
[OOC:] Eitanex coughs. "Eitanex" goes in that pose somewhere.

Cadgwith sneezes abruptly and swings her head back down again - this time resting as an umbrella over Pyrene's head. "Anywhere's good - just don't leave any ice. I've already slipped once this sevenday because some dimglow failed to grit properly."

"Good idea, Silas," Donis says, changing direction so he's facing roughly towards the hatching cavern. "We will need a path…" He squints, aims, and fires, keeping the flame going as he takes slow steps backwards to create a melted trail in the snow, which steams and hisses with the heat of evaporation. "Nice!" he decides, clicking the thrower off and surveying his work.

Rysta comes out of her reverie finally and then nods a bit. "Probably having a path would be a good idea. Espeically to the sands." She watches then as Donis flames a path and grins a bit. "Won't that singe the ground beneath if you get rid of all the snow? I mean…if we don't want to leave it as ice and all."

Shards. That's a completely different position. Eitanex grimaces over his pad and sketches out a quick body - two quick bodies, dragon figure and human figure, and flips over the page to try another. Flame's hard to capture, might as well practice while there's the chance. He holds his pencil ready.

Did Silas even notice Eitanex over there sketching? Probably not, he's too busy trying to keep warm to notice much of anything aside from a big sneezing gold dragon and the candidate with the flamethrower. And besides which, it's too early in the day to be attentive to minor details like a weyrbrat drawing a dragon. His gaze shifts to Rysta and he lifts a shoulder, "as long as there's no ice," he whispers to her with a grin and glances at Pyrene for a moment.

Rysta nods to Silas as he whispers to her and grins. "That was my thinking. In those robes and all…I'd hate to fall on my butt on the way there. Of course, there is something to be said about skating your way to the sands, hmm?" She grins widely at that, thinking it a bit funny even.

Pyrene cranes over trying to get a good view of Donis' handiwork. "Scorching'll do no harm," she tells Rysta. "If we wanted to keep the bowl floor pristine we wouldn't let hundreds of dragons thump down on it daily." That gets an amused gurgle from Cadgwith, who stamps one clawed foreleg down in demonstration. An brief but ear wrenching scratch can be heard as her talons drag on the frozen rock.

Donis peers down at his melted path, which is bare, steaming earth. "Looks alright," he ventures. "That's not to say it won't snow over, of course. Needs gritting, really…" He shrugs one shoulder, and flashes a grin towards Eitanex, who he noticed. "Want me to hold a pose?" he calls out, mostly joking.

Eitanex coughs and follows it with a grin. "Oh, no, no, Donis, you go right ahead. Unless you can get the /fire/ to hold a pose for me, that'd be /great/.

Silas turns a bright grin at Rysta before inspecting Donis' work with the toe of his boot. "Look dry enough to me. No puddles to freeze over at least," he says and glances around as the flaming candidate calls out to Eitanex. "Oh.. Hadn't seen him the - -" Interrupted by Cadgwith's claws on rocks, Sils grimaces and shudders inside his coat, "Aie.. That's a nasty sound.."

Donis opens up the nozzle on his flamer again, and trails backwards to clear more path. Slowly though, to give Eitanex a chance. And also because he's not looking behind him and might bang into people.

Rysta chuckles a bit and then looks to Silas before inspecting the path. "Hmm..yes, it does look dry. Good. No ice skating. Though I still think that might have been fun." She watches Donis again as he turns the flamer on and continues to clear the path.

Eitanex scribbles a quick pose - Donis's back in that withdrawing position, the metal shell of the flamer, and the flame in emission. Eitanex wishes he'd brought some color with him. In his concentration - Donis and his activities are all that he can concentrate on presently.

"The lake will probably freeze over soon," Silas notes with a nother shrug, though he know next to nothing about cold and water and how long it takes for anything to freeze. Watching Donis do his flaming, he juts his chin toward the candidate and calls, "you've done this before, haven't you, Donis?"

Pyrene shudders herself at Cadge's demonstration and turns a reproving look on Cadgwith. "Did you have to?" she asks pointedly. The gold swings her head down low, in an affectation of abashment.

"Been using a flamer for Turns," Donis answers Silas, shutting it off for a moment to check the path. "Never used it for this before though…" He switches it back on, and continues his pathmaking.

Rysta is watching Donis with the flamethrower and trying to walk at the same time. Unfortunately for her, she's still not quite used to snow and she hits a slippery patch. As she loses her balance, she cries out very loudly and grabs for the nearest person to try and keep herself upright.

Oh look. There's a large llama moving slowly across the bowl, not even remotely afraid of Cadgwith.

That, ah, marvelous concentration of Eitanex's is briefly broken to send a rapid glance toward the damsel in distress, but since he's not in range, there isn't much he can do for her, short of sprinting across the bowl and trying to dive under her, after she'd indubitably already fallen … dear, no, nothing he can do for Rysta at the present time, although he strongly wills some nice young gallant to. Eitanex flips the page quickly and starts another flamethrowing sketch. Llama? What llama?

Cadgwith is ever helpful as she shoots her head forward in an attempt to block Rysta's fall (or possibly brain the girl). While the afore-mentioned llama may not be particularly bothered by her, it's apparently been around dragons enough to know to avoid their sudden movements and it prudently skitters in another direction entirely.

"What?!" Donis whips around for the source of the cry… and a stray trail of flame crosses the path of a living being even as the candidate switches off the 'thrower. There's a sudden stink of roasting meat and a bellow of loud pain.

"Well, I'm sure it's easier than shoveling it away…" Silas grins and stamps his feet a couple of times. Getting cold already, "shoulda put on more so - " Again, he's interrupted by a cry from Rysta and hands gripping him, making him topple over in the snow, followed by an odd stench and yet another cry. Doesn't sound human, though?

And unceremoniously, Rysta falls into the snow with a whump, bringing poor Silas with her. She looks up about the time that the gold's head moves forward and eeps slightly, but tries to sit up to see what uttered the other…inhuman cry.

Donis goes suddenly white, and his flamethrower tumbles from his shoulder into a patch of snow. "What did I just hit?" he asks, redundantly, since the llama is crying loudly in pain, staggering around with its fur singed away down one side of its head and body. "Oh…." Donis is lost even for swearwords.

Eitanex freezes - pencil already skittered a long flame line that terminates … Eitanex's pencil nearly hits the snow, but he retains his grip and levels a long look at … he continues drawing, the llama's dying body quickly whipped out and quickly detailed, the necessary details anyway. Once you've started, you might as well … finish.

Silas doesn't move. Dispite being curious about that other cry, a huge dragonhead above him prevents him from doing anything at all, so he simply lies in the snow, not even breathing. "Rysta…" he whispers, glancing to the side, "what's that smell..?"

Pyrene lets out a horrified cry, and slithers down from Cadgwith to land gracelessly in a snowdrift from which her exclamations emerge. "Oh, put it out - shells - poor thing - how did that get out of the pens? Cadge - do something!" Cadgwith doesn't like her llama flambeed particularly but she does lift into the air and swipes the flaming creature with her tail. The llama's screams are cut off by the resultant crack and it collapses into the snow - skidding slightly from momentum and ice but finishing up in a gently steaming heap.

Donis tries to stammer out a few words of shock and apology, though he only becomes more frantic as he gets closer to the carcasse of the beast, and spots its telltale stains of turquoise dye. "Uh…. uh…. Pyrene… This is /It/."

Rysta looks over at Silas and shakes her head. "I …don't know." Finally, she hears Pyrene's cry and then the llama's screams suddenly ending in a crack. Shuddering slightly, she finally manages to sit up and look around the bowl. Frowning, she looks from Donis to Pyrene and back again. "It?" she questions.

Eitanex flips the page and keeps drawing. He knows, he knows, no one is /ever/ going to want to see this particular, aaah, piece and piece of … art, but honestly, how many chances do you get to depict It fallen into darkness and … uh, potential steak? Not many. One, in fact. Even if the apparently impassive sketch speed is punctuated by winces from the sketcher.

Silas twitches at the cracking sound moments after Cadgwith's head had disappeared and he slowly sit up, looking around with a puzzled look on his face, gaze stopping a a large bundle of fur.. "What… Happened?" he asks, getting to his feet to move closer to the furry lump, finally identifying it as a llama. "It? As in that llama everyone keeps talking about? You killed It??" And Sils never even got to see the thing alive..

Pyrene has made straight for Cadgwith to check the gold's tail for burns. Cadgwith has whisked it back and forth in the snow a few times and seems unconcerned, but Pyrene's fussing anyway - until she hears Donis' words. "It? Oh…. you've got to be joking." Her face white (although it was anyway from the rather unpleasant visuals she's had recently), she now runs over to the body, wincing slightly as she kicks snow over a few still-smouldering hairs. "Oh, shardit. Auri's going to ki - have Miravith kill you."

"She is, isn't she?" Donis faces his impending doom with a pale, determined face on which hope suddenly shines: "Perhaps she won't find out? Someone could tell her It did of natural causes, I mean, he was older than me…" He turns away from the body to reclaim his flamethrower and put the safety catch on.

Rysta stands and dusts the snow off of her clothing, managing to look mortified. It is sort of her fault and all. She was the one who cried out when she fell and distracted Donis. Moving gingerly, a little bruised from her tumble, she moves toward It to survey the damage. "This is bad, isn't it?'

Eitanex flips the pad closed and holds it under his arm, his eyes, without artist's focus, flicking uncertainly from Cadgwith, to Pyrene, to Donis, to Rysta and Silas. "Uh, I don't think there's anyway someone won't find out. You did … light it on fire in the … bowl, Donis. People are going to walk through here and smell It and … "

"Natural causes," Silas repeats, examining the body of the dearly departed llama, "I don't think anyone'll buy that, Donis.. Not the way his fur is, err… Singed.." A grimace cuts across his face and he turns toward the unlucky candidate with the flamethrower, "Unless.. Unless you butcher it?"

"For twenty turns now, it's been a tradition that the candidates look after It. It's supposed to instil a sense of responsibility into those of you who've never looked after a living creature before now," Pyrene intones like a dull eulogy. "That was the official mandate anyway. If you ask Auri, It brings luck and good cheer and team spirit by being the mascot for every last flipping candidate class since she Impressed." She looks dolefully at the former-llama. "It must have been about ready to die of old age, but she's probably going to want to see It, Donis. We can't show her… /that/."

"Maybe Cadgwith could eat it…" Donis starts to say, coming back to stand with the others in quiet eulogy around the corpse. "Erm, no," he stops himself, realising just how tasteless that might be. "Guess I'll just have to own up to Auri, then?"

Rysta blances and nods to Pyrene before looking back one last time at the now quite dead llama. She stands and swallows hard and then looks to Donis and murmurs, "Auri? Oh…the one Pyrene was talking about." Glancing back to It, she shakes her head. "We killed the mascot." Could this get any worse?

"I promise that I won't show her the pictures," Eitanex says diplomatically, keeping his eyes off the corpse now that /his/ dirty work is over with. "You could get a new mascot. Maybe a … dog or a watchweyr or … something."

Someone's canine comes trotting down the bowl, and stops to sniff at the carcasse.

Cadgwith is sensible of the occasion and she gives the canine a warning growl that makes it go scurrying back inside with its tail between its legs.

Silas stuffs his hands into his pockets, glancing around at the rest of the group, death or not, it's still cold out here. A sad sort of look crosses his face at Pyrene's speech and Rysta note at killing a mascot, "well.. He was old?" he says, though his voice isn't very comforting at all. "What do we do now?" I mean.. We can't just leave him here..?"

Pyrene looks a bit edgy at the canine incident. "Well, we've got to do something with the body, but I think we should wait for Auri to decide. If Cadge drags it over by the bowl wall there, you guys help bury it in snow. That way it'll keep and it won't be on display. And yes, Donis… I think you'd better break the news to Auri." Pyrene certainly isn't going to.

Eitanex is already slipping off, presumably to put his sketchpad somewhere dry, but he'll be back for the burial.

Donis gives a deep sigh. "I'll see if I can get someone to come with me then," he says, accepting of his fate, mostly: "Since having someone else there might stop her from committing murder."

"Actually, I'd advise you to take plenty of clean handkerchiefs and break the news to her in a place where Miravith can't reach you," Pyrene replies in all gravity. There's no easy way for a dead llama to be moved across the bowl, and Cadgwith pretty much just shoves It with her nose, leaving a trail of reddened snow behind it.

Silas mutters something about finding Dellena, the invisible candidate and tries to avoid Donis' gaze. He'd rather not get anywhere near Auri at the moment and his stance certainly belies that. Kicking a bit of snow, he watches as the gold shoves the llama across the bowl with a grimace on his face. "We'd better do something about that snow too…" he notes quietly.

"I could melt it?" Donis suggests tentatively.. then shakes his head. "No. Probably not the best idea. We're really not going to be able to cover this up completely…"

"We're at least going to make the bowl presentable," Pyrene snaps. "I'll stay here. You two go round up as many candidates as you can find and all the spades you can get hold of. If it takes us all afternoon to clear away the blood, you're doing it."

"Spades. Candidates. Right." Donis is still looking rather upset - he's grown up with It, in a way, and besides, Auri /is/ going to kill him. "Let's get this place tidy then." Lugging his flamethrower rather sheepishly, he disappears into the caverns.

"Right.." says Silas with a last glance across the carnage of the bloody snow in the bowl, then follows after Donis into the caverns. Looks like he'll need some more clothes and warm socks if they're to spend all afternoon out here burying It.

Donis goes home.

Rysta looks to Donis and nods a bit. "Well, I can go with you. I mean…you turned at my cry right?" She then nods to Pyrene and murmurs, "Whatever would be the best to do in this situation."

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