Trial By Fire
Who Carellos Reksler Riohra
What Riohra meets Carellos and Reksler
When Spring
Where Living Cavern, Fort Weyr

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Fort Weyr - Living Cavern
This cavern, having been created by bubbles in the volcanic flow of this extinct volcano, has a breathtaking ceiling — a vast dome that arches high above the heads of the weyrfolk that scurry around beneath it. A hollow echo can be heard from loud enough noises, and the chatterings of various firelizards are consequently multiplied into a chaotic babble. All in all, the living cavern is a loud place.
Tables are scattered around the room, apparently in no particular order. Over to one side near the kitchens, two medium sized serving tables are constantly spread with snacks, klah, and other goodies. The tables look worn, yet perfectly fitted to the atmosphere of the caverns. In the 'corners' of the cavern, smaller two and four place tables are set up for more private talks or just a less chaotic atmosphere in which to eat.


It's late enough that the dinner rush has come and gone but not soo late that the serving tables aren't being replenished. The relative roar of the living caverns has settled down into a comfortable hum along with the spring rain that could be heard as people come in and out from the Central Bowl. Carellos reemerges from the lower caverns, changed out of his work attire, but that doesn't stop the Journeyman from walking over to the food laid out to eye it with much scrutiny as a tray is assembled. He chews on his lower lip in thought, giving one platter an ominous look, but the man shrugs and takes his tray into his customary corner where a table is thankfully empty.

"…cking blow me!" This heralds the arrival of a clean cut young man likely still in his teens, a book tucked under one arm and something clutched in his hand, yelling at someone out of sight from the direction of the central bowl. Upon spotting the recently arrived Carellos, Reksler stiomps over his way with absolute murderous rage etched into his smooth features. Slapping the item he was holding flat down onto the middle of the table the baker occupies, the harper drops himself heavily into a chair directly across from him and seethes. "They fucking promoted me!" Sure enough there, that's a Journeyman Harper's knot. Why is this something to be upset about? Tossing his book onto the table practically on top of that which anyone else would be filled with pride to have, he crosses his arms tightly over his chest as he flings one leg over the other at the knee and glares across the room at nothing in particular.

Riohra steps in from the lower caverns his shirt is wrinkled and his face has the obvious red marks that he fell asleep on some solid surface. His hair is flat to one side of his over and starts to fill his plate with a little of everything. As he reaches for a mug of Klah the outburst from the newly appointed Journeyman makes him jump a little, but also serves to wake him up as he heads over to a random table to sit down at.

Don't mind Carellos, he just has his cheeks filled to the brim with some shredded wherry a napkin already in hand. The slam on the table didn't even make the man flinch, he's used to his love bird making the cute little tweet tweets at people as he makes his way through the weyr. For a moment, he does catch the flinch of the poor unsuspecting young man out of the corner of his eye, and he smiles. Though, the smile doesn't last for long. "So," he murmurs from behind his hand, "Are they letting you stay or am I going to have to throw someone in the oven?"

Cornflower blue eyes shoot over his shoulder at poor Riohra when Carellos smiles, dangerously slitting before hs head slowly turns back to the baker. So, suspicious. A brow twitches upwards and Reks' frown somehow manages to deepen, tapping a finger on his forearm with no small degree of irritation. He's quiet for a time, which given the situation may not be a good thing, staring the baker down hard. Tap. Tap. Tap. "No, I'm not going anywhere," Reksler snaps, "But they didn't wait for me to be done with my book. I've been slaving on that thing for four fucking turns! It's like they don't care!"

Finding that the outburst from the newly minted Journeyman has cleared out a table close to the pair, he takes a seat his back to a wall and starts to eat. Still not bothering with his own appearance, Riohra just goes about his business but when he spies the Harper stare at him he lifts his mug in salute and goes back to his food, but he is watchful for anything flying his way whether it be words or objects as the man seems to be prone to do rash things.

If he does throw anything, it'll likely be the Baker's plate of food because Reksler wouldn't dare throw away his precious work materials. Care's food? Eh, he can get more. Just in case, Carellos pulls his tray closer to him and a little bit away from Reksler as he holds his napkin over his mouth, emerald eyes peering out of the corner while the gears are turning. "Why should you /not/ finish it?" Because there's some divine secret to how the Harper's work and only Reksler is privy to this information. Care takes his roll, rips it in half, sending a flurry of little soft fluffy bread crumbs all over the table, being rolled about in the breeze every time someone comes in and out of the caverns. He peers at it, then shrugs, dipping it into the juices of his plate. All while eating /loudly/, humming his approval.

Reksler simply looks Riohra up and down for his salute and for some reason the hunter's sheer gall seems to turn something over in the harper to the point that he at least quiets down and stops screaming across the small table he shares with the Journeyman baker. "What would be the fucking point, Carellos?" he asks, poking at the top of the book he'd tossed down to emphasize each word. "It was supposed to be the reason I advanced. Instead, I get thrown a knot and told to stay out of trouble. If they're just going to hand them out, why even bother putting any fucking effort in at all?" The harper's brows lift in question, seeking out the answer in Carellos face, but the guy was far to busy stuffing it and so all too soon all he's doing is watching the other teen make one hell of a mess, leading him to flick one of the crumbs at him. Probably only to get Care's attention. "This," he stabs at the book again, "…is whershit." This last statement is more grumbling than anything, but even this trails off as he begins to stare at his mate. The man could eat that was for sure, though the loudness with which he was eating was impressive. Reksler exhales and growls softly, shaking his head and thumps back against his chair once more.

Riohra looks over at the loud eating but shrugs, and goes back to his own food. When the book, is tossed again his body just kind of sways a little as if to avoid a toss. Still not even the slightest bit perturbed as he has now taken out a small note that he is reading. He does look around when the Journeyman says something about whershit, lifting his foot unconsciously then realizing the upset fellow wasn't talk about an actual defecation chuckles softly to himself and goes back to his meal.

Carellos just picks up the crumbs and eats them like nothings wrong at all. He holds up one crumb, examines it, peers over to Riohra and nods his head with a look of approval at the crumb in hand and it's it, too. He clears his throat, glacing back at Reksler and he continues to move food around his plate. "Reks, finish the damn book. You put too much into it, I had nights where I couldn't be within visual range while you were working on it. I'm going to be angry, if that thing isn't done and you don't put it in the face of every Journeyman on up about it when it's done. I'm not kidding, oven's big enough. Just cleaned it."

No longer loud, but clearly still irritated, Reksler grumbles under his breath. He ignores the crumb inspection and consumption, but as Carellos once again looks over at the once saluting guy, the harper tosses his gaze Riohra's way and stares long and hard in that direction as if trying to place the face. Nope. That there was a stranger for sure. "You know him?" he asks Carellos with poisionous blue eyes falling on the baker's handsome face, definitely back to being suspicious and you know that pretty blond head of his is going places it has no business or evidence in going. He's putting his back to Rio though, so he can drop his voice and mutters something across the table at Carellos in a harsh hushed tone. "…I'll think about it, but don't expect to see me doing anything for a while. Fuck them."

The hunters neck and shoulder muscle twitch slightly and he looks up at Reksler, maybe catching his eye maybe not but gives the man a grin. As it isn't reciprocated he just shrugs and finishes his meal, now is content at slowly drinking his Klah. He has started humming a soft tune; he has a nice bass humming voice, not harper quality but it also does not sound like dragon claws on lime stone either.

Carellos glances over to Reksler and tilts his head to the side in question while he's quietly gnawing on some raw vegetables he managed to bring to the table along with that still laden tray. What? All the Baker can do is shrug and shake his head, "Nope." No, he just likes smiling at people, it's the friendly thing to do! "He's making some lovely music, though." Death cert writ and signed! Care chuckles quietly, a piece of tuber sticking out of his mouth, and he wags his brows for a moment before the tuber vanishes into his mouth. He leans forward, big ol grin on his face and he mutters something back, then rises to his feet and happily makes his way over to the tables once more. Need more bread.

Oh Riohra, catching the young harper's eyes is a dangerous mood indeed, but no more so than that grin. Reksler's hackles were already up and now that were pointing him. There is most definitely not a returned smile, just the kind of look that suggests that if that sort of thing could kill, Rio right then and there be on the wrong side of the dirt. "Oh really…" he hisses, tossing that withering gaze up and over so that it descends upon the baker like a fiery rain instead. "Maybe you should get him to suc…" But whatever was to follow is abruptly cut off as Reksler's eyes widen and he turns noticeably red straight up to his ear tips. A growl very quickly follows and he takes an open handed swing that lands on the baker's backside with a sharp slapping sound, frowning deeply in the wake of it and the man's journey for more fresh baked goods. Still, he's back to glaring at Riohra, and snagging his belongings off the table he forcibly gets out of his chair and stomps on over to where the hunter is humming. Wordlessly, he drops into a seat there instead, removing his apprentice knot and replacing it with the Journeyman one scowling the entire time.

For his credit Riohra's blue eyes gaze over the list he is reading calmly, followed by that warm happy grin. "Nuts?" he offers a bag of trail mix to the harper; his expression is full of merriment. Watching the journeyman adjust himself he nods to the knot on his shoulder but is still sitting there with the offer of treats to the blonde haired man.

Carellos comes back to his table and notices that… there's no Reksler. Uh oh, this can't be good. For a moment, a look of brief panic washes over his face. Those emerald eyes grow wide and he begins to crane his neck to look around the room. For a second, he mouths 'oh no', and those eyes directly bee-line back to the table where the stranger was sitting. Hopefully there's no bloodshed. Reks is a little skittish and growly when he comes in contact with strangers but he's a sweet heart once you get past all that violence. Once the Baker sees no blood and the man is still intact, he exhales, then flops back down into his seat to his tray. Of course, he turns it to watch. What loving mate would miss this.

There is no return happiness or even a single crack that might even fleetingly be mistaken for a smile. Instead, Reksler eyeballs the man offering him a snack, but doesn't take any. Then, as Carellos strolls on by without even noticing he'd moved, blue eyes follow his progression narrowed, remaining thus until they make contact with his green. In them is the promise for all the sorts of things that keeps one wide awake at night, but none of them that the baker was going to enjoy. Picking something probably imaginary off one pants leg, the harper crosses them again, arms folded over the book in his lap as he returns to silently judging Riohra. It was as if Reks was using some mathmatical formula only he understood in order to determine whether or not the other man was even worth a single of his breath.

Riohra shrugs and puts down the sack of nuts as he watches the harpers gaze, a smile of understanding comes over the young hunters face. He picks up his mug of Klah and says "there is pie too" he motions with his chin at a non-touched piece on the table. He his voice doesn't lose any of the friendliness in it; in fact it seems to go up a little as if he is trying to spread the happy mood to the dour faced Harper.

Wait, what? Pie? Where! Carellos twists in his seat, still chewing at his food but the look on his face staring at Reksler screamed challenge. As soon as his mouth had just enough room, he points his fork back and forth between the Harper and the pie. "I will climb over you and that table to get to that pie if you don't take him up on that offer. We stopped making them in the kitchen for the night at the end of my shift!" Well, maybe. If there's room.

Oh ho ho, baker man, challenge accepted! Reksler ignores Riohra for now, glancing over at Carellos briefly with a deadpan expression, before its relocated back to hunter. Rolling his eyes, he lifts a hand in a single fingered wave over his shoulder for his gluttonous mate, "Maybe you should concentrate on what's in front of you, Carellos. You keep eating everything in sight and you're going to get fat again." he says in an irritated and yet somehow flat tone of voice, "If you think I'm going to do what I did for you last time that happened, you're dreaming." Sighing heavily, "Idiot," he mutters, now giving Rio his undivided attention. Fingers are steepled in front of his lips, tapping them together silently as he continues his observation as if the hunter still had something to prove.

Riohra sets his mug down now and picks up the pie moving it to the side of the table closer to the Baker man. Then looking back to the Harper says "Oh here your Knot is crooked" he casually leans over the table and adjusts his new Journeyman Knot so it is on straighter saying "There ya go, much better." He then goes back to reading the page in his hand while and humming in that deep bass of his.

Carellos is still chewing another mouthful and he stops, hamster cheeks and all, peering back and forth between Riohra and Reksler. Then to his plate. He begins to glance around the room, then sadly back to his plate where he chews a bit more. "You said I was still cute when I was fat," he mutters, swallowing before taking in another shovelful of food. Well, then he'll have to come up with other ways to lose the weight if it comes to it. But, /pie/… It's quickly forgotten. There's something else going on, something that makes him even forget the food on his plate and for a moment, he stares. Not at Riohra, who was just doing the kind gesture. To Reksler… He let another man touch him. At all. In close proximity without the yelling, the shouting. Carellos sits back in his seat and takes a good look at himself. Is he getting fat already? Reks finally gets stared at and it's with a look he'll learn the translation of later. For now, he just shuts up and takes the pie.

Either Reksler doesn't hear the sad mutterings of his mate, or he chooses to ignore him because there is no reaction from the harper, still attempting to burrow his gaze through Riohra. That is, until the man touches him. It's not like it happens too quickly to react to, because the kindness of the knot straightening takes time. Initially, Reks' hands come up and he instantly recoils before freezing into place, a different kind of stare then follows. One that clearly indicated that Reks was not used to people invading his personal space. Telling him to piss off? Yes. Calling him very unkind things? Oh yes. But touching him? No, no one touches him. A flush blooms rapidly across Reksler's cheeks and he's on his feet fast, backing up a step away from the hunter. It's then that his expression shifts as his brows furrow and he seems unaware of what to do next. A glance is given Carellos' way, but he was looking at him in way he never had before, causing his face to twist into something unrecognizable to anyone other than the baker. A single heartbeat later, Reksler is making his way very quickly indeed for the exit down to the living quarters, saying not another word.

Riohra is, surprisingly still sipping his Klah. As the very confused and possibly angry man wanders off he looks over the top of his notes and again with that sweet grin to the Baker says "The food tonight was excellent. My complements Journeyman" he takes a drink of his Klah again. Letting a few heartbeats go by says "He left his book and things here," motioning with his mug at the harper's belongings, "I do hope he feels better. He seemed rather out of sorts but a nice enough fellow. I am Riohra."

Carellos catches glimpse of that look on Reksler's face and it's with quick succession that he's stacking up the empty dishes, putting the last piece down in time for a drudge to collect it up. Reksler making an immediate escape? This can't be good. The Baker rises to his feet with a groan, offering a sigh and a shrug to the stranger. "He'll be fine, just a lot on his plate lately. I'm Carellos. I suppose I'll be seeing more of you around. Heh. Thanks for the pie!" With that, Carellos gathers up all of the Harper's forgotten materials and he quickly strides after him.


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