Harper's Tale - Zi'n - Thursday, October 19, 2000, 4:31 PM
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You leave the barracks, squinting in the brighter light of the bowl.
Northeastern Bowl (#859)
The northeastern arc of the Weyr Bowl seems somewhat isolated from the rest of the weyr - with necessity, for this is the training grounds for young riders and dragons, the Weyrlings. The main entrance to the weyrling barracks is just north of here, and the ground there is well-trampled and firm, as if many feet, both human and dragon, have wandered over it dozens of times a day. Further up in the northwest corner of the bowl is the waterfall, tumbling out of the Weyr face several dragonlengths above, misting the area in a rainbow glow. On the south side of the bowl lie the ashpits and firestone supplies for the entire Weyr.
It is a winter before dawn.
Green Euphrath, gold Tiareth, bronze Bith, green Ivrylth, and bronze Orbyth are here.
You see Flamer Charging Unit here.
Obvious exits:
Barracks Pool Path Central Bowl
Above, Celth spirals down from above.
Above, Celth glides down to land in the bowl.
Celth glides in for a landing.
C'ran nearly jumps from the height of Celth's neck and lands gently on the ground, Celths attention already on everything else around.
[IstaToys] Zi'n notes that ICly we'd freeze to death out here. You enjoy killing weyrlings? ;)
[IstaToys] C'ran: yep! Get out of my house, there's another weyrling
[IstaToys] C'ran grins "C'ran's used to the weather here, you either learn, or die. Part of weyrlinghood
[IstaToys] Jhiateshyrth blinkers. What's happening?
[IstaToys] Zi'n: What doesn't kill you make you stronger..... :P
[IstaToys] Zi'n hjas to show off hishorrible straps ;)
Zi'n *poses first?
[IstaToys] Jhiateshyrth beams and has the worst :) Is sure of it.
[IstaToys] Zi'n giggles. Yeah they're pretty bad :P
[IstaToys] Zi'n: Mine are purty. *preens*
C'ran *grins "go for it, I'm a teensy bit slow"
Zi'n *siighs. As always? *ducks*
C'ran *aws and snugs "Do I neglect my poor weyrlings? I do try, but since my home computer is half broken, I can mostly only do thing sfrom work"
Ivrylth *patpats C'ran. Poor Baby ^_^
Zi'n is ushered out of the weyrling barracks by a very insistent Orbyth; bronzen head nudged 'gainst orange-clad back of his lifemate. "I know, I know... oh, C'ran, sir?" The weyrlingmaster is spotted, and weyrling starts off towards him. "I think I finished Orbyth's straps.... yes, I know you helped," is added in a whisper to said bronze, whose eyes are rolling smugly.
C'ran pauses on his stroll across the bowl "Really lad? Well then, come on over and lets have a look at the see how you did." he changes his own course to intercept the two, whistling merrily on this fine morning.
"Well, um, I wasn't able to find some good leather, but I figured this'd have to do," Zi'n admits, pointing a hand towards the straps placed around Orbyth. Rather loosely, but they stick. Maybe he glued them on? "And, um, Orbyth thought it'd look pretty with those colors...... t-the pink and yellow, I mean. I insisted on the blue, but, um....." Babbling trailing off, the 'ling just looks hopefully at C'ran. Don't laugh too much. Please?
Orbyth senses C'ran looking at him.
Orbyth (#11109)
As a shooting star tears across the empyrean, bronze's molten alloy blazes over his form's rocky countenance to set afire mercurial-lilted eyes. Near cosmic tongues of coppery flame lick across this dragon's brawny chest as the catalyst to ignite the pitted firestone beneath. Explosion after interstellar explosion of fiery cinnabar cast their incandescent glow from the chiseled lines of honed ridges to the russet vermeil of halstate talons. Lithic puissance issues with meteor's golden shimmer upon the vast expanse of wings' wide canopy and then kindles ever after along the trailing length of comet's slender tail.
Clashing terribly with coppery molten hide, an array of torquiose greeny blue flows around the neck and chest of Orbyth. Even though the material used for the straps looks to be a kind of leather, one might doubt the quality of it in the first place, and the apparent age and state of it doesn't help much. To amend for the poor quality, a busy weyrling has been mending the pieces together; using bright yellow stitches, rough and clumsy, to join the various rotten links and joints of the leather straps. To complete the flawed picture, lilacish pink tassles have been added in strategically incorrect places; making them bound to fall into the dragon's eyes when he moves his head.
Orbyth is 3 months and 25 days old.
C'ran coughs lightly, biting down on his lower lip. It takes a lot, a whole lot, of will power not to laugh at the contraption. "Um, yes well... I can see you two..." he breaks out into another fit of coughing that sounds suspiciously like strangled laughter "put a lot of creativity into them." yes, that's a safe bet.
[IstaToys] C'ran grins and suddenly realizes that you guys need a reason for doing such a poor job, I forgot to tell all of you that you could requisition leather, alright?
[IstaToys] Zi'n was wondering about that :P Unles you thought we were all stupid enough ICly to do such poor jobs ;)
[IstaToys] C'ran grins "no, icly I would have given you the lesson, but forgotten to mention just where you'd get the materials. Okay, icly you probably wouldn't have done such bad jobs, but you wouldn't have had as much fun either ;)
With slumping shoulders, Zi'n sends a row of indignant glares towards his oh-so-beloved-inn-this-very-moment-Orbyth, receiving an innocent flicker of the tail from the dragon. "Um, yeah, s'pose we did," bronzeling mutters, suddenly finding his feet very interesting to stare at. At least they're black, nice, comfy black. Not yellow and pink and.... eek. "I-eh, tried to mend it, but it was really old, I think....."
C'ran walks around the dragon curiously, eyeing the straps appraisingly. There seem to be a lot of 'hmmm' noises emenating from his direction. "Yes well, they're... yes, they're mended. Um, Zi'n, if I might inquire, why didn't you ask the headwoman or her staff for some new leather and whatever you might have required?"
Wait. He could've done that? Zi'n sends C'ran a rather dumbstruck expression, echoed in the slowly rolling eyes of his lifemate. "Ehm... the headwoman? But, I thought we had to use whatever was there. Um, I mean, you never said we should make /new/ straps. Or well, new, but I thought these were just for training, and..." Blabber. As if they could keep him on even 5 feet above the ground.
C'ran quirks an eyebrow and crosses his arms over his chest "Zi'n, you were supposed to ask for some leather and work with that to get it into the form. These straps have to hold you onto your dragon you know? Otherwise you fall off. They need to be made of some strong materials. And... yes, I hate to tell you this, but no glue."
"But I thought that... oh." Is that a slight pink tinging Zi'n's cheeks? Or rather, a deep crimson shooting into the weyrling's face. "I know that," he admits, sheepishly, "but these are what I got..." Of course he should've maybe asked the headwoman and not that drudge person..... "I didn't use glue. Just, stitches..."
C'ran grins and reaches out to rustle the weyrlings hair "Relax lad, you aren't in trouble. And you can still make them... er, creative, if you like. But you are going to have to remake them the right way, with leather. Real leather." he peers over at them "Ah, yes those are stitches aren't they. Well, may I suggest you ask for some better materials in that department as well?"
"Of course, sir, we will. I mean, I will," Zi'n adds, sternly, though his would-be tough expression is marred by another round of blushing as his hair is rustled. Orbyth croons slightly, tail snaking 'round the weyrling's legs, and lowers his head to glance up at the persons. "And, um, I'll spend more time on the stitches next time." And guess who made him hurry so... eesh.
C'ran laughs softly and just shakes his head "Now now, don't look so embarressed. Its a start. And were I you, I'd save them, that's the sort of thing one likes to keep." though not remember. "Do you have any questions on what to do then, or are you ready to go to it?"
Zi'n grins a little, cheeks still colored slightly, and shakes his head. "No questions. But I will keep them, thanks, sir. No, I won't change the colors," is said then in a soothing tone - he hasn't quite gotten the grasp of speaking inside his head yet.
*** Disconnected ***