~~*~~ Fort Weyr - Living Caverns ~~*~~

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.


Midafternoon brings a sort of slowdown to the caverns - the lunch rush is over and the dinner rush is hours away yet. There are people here - some working on various projects scattered here and there at empty tables, others are seeking snacks or a late meal from the serving tables, which always have something to offer. Today there's a cinnamon-spiced ground lamb, pine nuts and golden raisins wrapped in pastry - meatrolls with a sweet savory twist - and a smattering of cookies, fruit and cheese. The infirmary was served…a bland but nutritious chicken soup. At least there were dumplings in it. Yip…pee? The scent in here - it's like a holiday compared to the medicinal ones in the infirmary. This must be why the weyrsecond is awkwardly navigating his way on those crutches into the caverns, still dressed in loose-fitting cotton clothing (like an inmate only they're ecru rather than orange. He's harmless, really, unless you're the cook, then he might murder you).

Borodin arrives bearing a smell of his own, that of toasted grains and alcohol. It's the sort that clings to clothing, one reason drunkards tend to be easy to identify… but it's okay, he's a brewer! He's supposed to smell like this… and this alcohol is a much warmer scent than the antiseptic sort found in the infirmary. He trudges in from the caverns, observing… quiet. His head nods, and then he starts for those serving tables… only to pause partway there as he notes the uneven pace of someone on crutches. So he stops to look, because of course what's needed by someone trying to maneuver themselves despite an injury is to be stared at, and discovers that not only is someone injured, it's someone he knows. Borodin hrmphs, and turns from his first destination to head for the weyrsecond. "Out again?"

Therynn has finally been released from a morning, afternoon and later-afternoon shift of rider shadowing. Just her luck, this task came complete with a grand finale of a dragon washing line-up during which she, and a few other Candidates who are in the canine house, were fully responsible for bathing and oiling. Rynn has become a bit more efficient at this over time, and while still tiring, cleaning up them big ol' dragons doesn't take nearly as long as it used to. She did not make it out in time to catch up with the other Candidate's who had their lunch during the more normal hours of the day, but this is just fine with Rynn who typically prefers to avoid the mad-house rushes common in the living caverns. Looking a little disheveled and definitely still air drying from being drenched, she's got an oil smudge on one cheek and a whip mark on the other from happily lashing dragon tail. Entering with Finnian, a small red headed Candidate, the two of them are looking like they got it handed to them out there, hard work provoking some serious hunger. The delectable smell of lamb pastry tickles her nose, olfactory senses lighting up with a deep inhale and a "Yummm.." exhale. It could be mud pie at this point and neither of the two would mind much. They grab some plates and serve up some heaping portions, grabbing a mug of juice (for electrolytes and totally not for the sugar rush) before heading for some seats. They are not far behind D'ani and Borodin, and when Rynn sees the Weyrsecond crutching along she excuses herself and heads that direction. "D'ani, Sir." Head bows, hands clutching plate and drink. "M'glad t'see you n'glad you're alright." A warm smile for Borodin as well, she adds "N'good to run in to you again Borodin. I heard your libations event was quite a hit."

Brewery scents are preferable to the antiseptic redwort and nose-tingling astringency of numbweed in the infirmary any day - at least to D'ani. The healers well, they've probably killed their olfactory glands long past, for they certainly don't seem to mind it. The weyrsecond didn't hear the hrmph of Borodin, but had he, he'd have grinned for that too, is preferable to the giggling apprentices in there. He's intent on his crutch-placement, but flicks look a sidelong at the other and nods the once. That's all he dares do lest he lose what balance he has. "For now." Until they come and haul him back. Theyrnn's arrival and rush of words demands at least more and he lifts his head to respond, a pained smile given both candidates, "Thanks. I've been…better. So alright is an apt descriptor at the moment." Libations. He ducks his head, fighting the laugh that wants out, coughs and wobbles. Apparently he's going to sit right here in this empty seat. Plop!

…so Therynn heard about Banana Kid! "Hah," Borodin says. "Well enough. Everyone's still up and standing-" a glance to D'ani "-at least as much as they were before." Except now D'ani is sitting, so… maybe it wasn't so great after all? "Should stay that way," he informs the weyrsecond. Which might mean sitting, or might mean 'out of the infirmary'. They're both good! "Besides, aren't you supposed to be the one keeping the desks in order?" Borodin gives D'ani an expectant look. Justify being wounded! And… oh, look, Therynn has a beverage. Good reminder. "You want a drink?"

Therynn would move to help the the bronzerider settle in his chair, but knows this effort would likely be futile. Finnian stays close but behind Therynn, flashing a brief smile back, even more shy than she, and with fewer turns of self-discovery and refined gumption. "If there's anything we can do to help, just let us know." Yep, she signed the red headed boy up for this task too considering they kind of owe their lives to the Weyrsecond. "That runner.." she asks nervously "was yours?" No assumptions about joining him at his table are made, welcomed distraction from the vintner provokes a snicker. "S'not what I heard.." the boozy tales have definitely circulated the Weyr and apparently even a couple rabble-rousing Candidates were caught having more than their fair share. Rynn's mouth waters at the thought. She's no alki but wetting her whistle in the spring time is a favorite pastime for the mojito loving huntress. The fact there her verbiage affects D'ani in this way goes right over her head, asking Borodin "Think we can fuse that kind of thing with some dancing once all us Candidates are free again?" meaning either post-hatching or post graduation- whatever their fate may be.

At least D'ani managed, prior to sudden impact, to lift the thigh that has been stitched as he lost his balance. "Funny, I thought furniture-moving was drudge work," he smirks up at Borodin, deliberately misunderstanding before he leans back and considers. He might get away with… "A mug of ale? Whatever they've got is fine." Theyrnn's help would only be futile if D'ani was headed for the floor. In this instance, his aim was on point even if his timing was off. Her question takes him a moment to shift gears. He smiles, "Kuleana you mean? Yeah, she's mine. What about her?" Dancing…drink mixing… "I'm not judging any dancing," he tells Borodin before patting the tabletop to indicate that the candidates may join him. "If you don't mind snagging me a plate of food - oh, a little of everything?" Quick before a healer hauls his ass back to solitary confinement!

"You do?" Borodin asks D'ani at his comment about the furniture, then snorts. "Well. That'd explain why it hasn't been getting done." He looks back to Therynn, and his eyebrows rise for her report. There wasn't supposed to be any drinking except by the judges - taste-tests aside - and there was an entire category (and many an ingredient) for drinks as suitable to candidates as that juice. "Really?" It's still a question, but the tone's just a little flat for it to be a proper one. The eyebrows stay raised, and a faint smirk joins them as she suggests dancing. "That depends," he says to Therynn. "If you're going to run a dance contest," to go with a drink-making contest "you might have to admit you enjoy it. In front of an audience, even." All those people! Watching! He looks back to D'ani. "Not even if they do it while bringing you drinks?" And speaking of… he nods to the request for a plate of forbidden fruit (and meatroll, and cheese, and… everything!), takes a step, then pauses to look back to Therynn. "Besides, dancing's good exercise, no?" Borodin half-smiles. "No rules against candidates having that, and you can have your drinks virgin." What? It's the correct technical term for making them without alcohol. With that, Borodin heads off to the serving tables.

Ravyal comes scurrying his way into the living cavern, and even across it. Free from whatever chore he's been doing most of the day, it seems the perfect time to poke and pick at the different foods still set out waiting at the tables. Especially those foods that seem to be pastry-types. ..And cheese. There's a pause though, and he looks up again while biting into a roll, peering first at the approaching Borodin and then around him. "Why're we talking about dancing? We're not…there isn't going to /be/ one..is there?"

Therynn can't contain the raised brow and inquiry at D'ani's request "Wouldn't that interact with.. oh never mind." None of her business any way. Finnian is about to try and get out of sitting at the Weyrsecond's table, but his patting of tabletop and food requests leave him no choice to oblige. "No really, let me. I'll grab the food." He says, leaving Borodin to chat and choose the beverage as he scampers to do exactly as requested, retuning a short time later with a plate that contains literally everything on it. "Don't forget about what we gotta do afterwards." he says to Rynn, placing the mound 'o food in front of D'ani. Based on a cringing grimace from the girl addressed this can only mean one thing- dung shoveling. Oh joy! "Ok.. we'll eat and wrap this up." she nods looking between the plate and Cadidate briefly. Hazel irises flickering as they jut up to the bronzerider, knowing not much about him besides the fact that he risked his neck for them out there. "Kuleana, yes. She's beautiful… and I umm found 'er outside the barn when we arrived back. Took a lot of bargaining with the guards, but they let me walk her back to the stalls. Hope I put her in the right one and hung her saddle properly." Since he offered, Rynn takes a seat too, a smirk flickering to Borodin. He of all people should know well that a 'taste-test' varies in size in reference to the indulgers. Then again Weyrs and rumors are inseparable, she says "Word is some got a lil tipsy, mentioning the drinks were poured right and by some heavy handed newbies.." a shrug until he's outing her love for dance. "Hey!" a scowl "Give a girl some time and space to do her thing, would ya? Maybe that was my intention.. no words just dance!" -cue interpretive dance moves in her head. Working on her plate it is mere moments until food is gone nodding about it being good exercise and head shaking about non-alcoholic drinks "S'just not the same. Will be needing liquid courage t'd get up and shake my tush in front of all them people." As Ravyal enters a wave is sent that direction "Hey there! Maybe.. and you're already entered in the contest."

D'ani shakes his head at Borodin, a half-grin tugging at his mouth, and quips dryly "Aye, that's the most likely reason." Brown eyes swing to Therynn for her half-finished question. "Hoping it does, actually," he says dryly. What? The infirmary is boring. If he's required to be there, sleeping those hours away works for him. Back to Borodin, he opens his mouth, then smirks, "I mean, if they don't mind the dance contest results skewed by ignorance, sure, I'll do it." But drinks he can judge, go figure! He just blinks at Therynn's little outburst at Borodin, makes no comment to that or her commentary about the drinking contest. Her report of his runner clears his expression of the irony it held for those rumors, though. "Thank you for taking care of her," he says sincerely. "I appreciate it. Also," he coughs, "thanks for helping me the other night too." Borodin is off to fetch liquid sedation and over there encountering Ravyal who will get a proper greeting should he drift nearer. There's an unexpected plate placed in front of him. Heaping with food? What about a little of everything did Finnian not understand?

"Judge's favorite?" Borodin suggests to D'ani with a smile, one that remains in place as Therynn complains. "I did. Or would you rather not be given opportunities? Don't blame the drink… or lack of it." And, speaking of drinks… even the best of vintners can't produce alcohol out of thin air, and so Borodin heads off to (presumably) get a drink… except apparently he didn't hear Finnian's attempts to dissuade him, and so he also goes to pick up a plate. He encounters Rayval along the way, and smiles to the candidate. "You should ask Therynn about that. See if she'll demonstrate." That said, he continues on to adorn that plate with bits of both this and that. Savory-sweet meatrolls? Yep. Cookies with berry jam in the center? Uh-huh. Berries, unjammed and without a cookie involved? Indeed. Cheese? Yes please. Leftover chicken soup? … well, no, because that would make the rest of it rather soggy, and he can't also carry a bowl because he needs that hand for carrying the mug of (fairly weak) ale. …okay, so technically he could also carry it, he's done his share of waitstaff duty as a vintner, he just… won't and doesn't. These in hand, he returns to find… hmm. Apparently food can appear out of thin air. He arches a brow as he sets down mug and… plate, version two. At least D'ani has some variety in his variety? …and maybe this is evidence of just how reliable 'word' may be, given that it couldn't even manage to convey something from one person to another when they were standing within a few feet of each other. "If you get an upset stomach, they might keep you longer." Or at least more securely!

"What?!" Pardon Ravyal's voice for squeaking out that word at a very high pitch. There's a stare leveled at Therynn, gawking at her in the midst of picking up a plate for himself. There's a quick look at Borodin. For help? Something? /Alas/. There seems naught to be had. Once he attains a few small snacks he starts to shuffle over though, nodding his head in greetings while still looking nervously bewildered. "I can't…/dance/."

Therynn is feeling it- the past few fortnights and especially the past seven day or so have really worn the girl down. She is mostly healed on the outside, no longer hobbling, black eye faded, little pokies of hair growing back in combed over bald spot, but she is exhausted. While slightly dimmed, the satiety of being full and the thanks from D'ani has lips curling upwards. "You are quite welcome, though I extend much thanks back as well. You guys saved our rears out there. It coulda been bad." That's all needs be mentioned about that night, but Rynn has a burning question, which comes out quite forward for her typically reserved self "Think we could go out riding some time?" As for the dancing and her protest of Borodin's words she's at least glad the idea is being tossed around. A sigh and a shrug "Goes both ways.." she says to Borodin as he ventures and comes back with yet another plate of food. Finnian just doesn't know any better and now D'ani has a feast that could feed a small hold in front of him. "Thanks a lot Borodin.. I dance. Ok? I love it! It makes me feel alive!" There she said it! The tomboyish girl has a thang for shaking it. "N'I was just joking Ravyal. We were talking about a drink n'dancing event. If y'want, I could teach ya some moves." Just then, a tall, gruffy brown rider comes in and puts hands on Rynn's and Finnian's shoulders. "It's time" he says, and so they must depart. "Excuse us.. shoveling time." A bow of the head for the group then Rynn and Finnian clean up their plates and head for the barn.

Does 'Tush Shakeoff' count as a category? In that case… D'ani might not screw up judging that particular event. While Therynn's brain dances, unbeknownst to all but the girl in question, he listens to the back and forth between her and Borodin, chuckling. This beats the grumbles and moaning (also the giggling, let's not forget that) he's been hearing in the infirmary. While Borodin's over there collecting sustenance, D'ani, though he's still eyeing that unexpected plate, is listening to Therynn. "Sure. But it'll be awhile until I'm fit to do so. You can probably go with one of the stablehands though." Fort…night…s? Has it been that long since the camping trip? He could've sworn… Nevermind, they've been drugging him better than he thought! Ravyal's squeak brings the weyrsecond's eyes from plate to boy. "It's actually a great idea for social… enhancement," he says seriously, with a headtilt to Therynn. "Maybe she can teach you-" Oh but the girl is already way ahead of him. He's slow on the uptake. Aaaaand now has two plates of food. Nono, he's not eating it all! "I'm going to need a doggie bag," he mutters, one hand lifting in an absent wave as the others head off.

That's Borodin for you. Just look at what he did there. …he doesn't seem terribly upset about having done it. Maybe because - for all her protests - Therynn's the one who brought up the idea of that event in the first place. So he stands there with a slight smile as she expresses her agitation, then looks to Rayval and nods agreement as Therynn claims she could teach him. It's true! She could. Or at least, Borodin thinks so, and Therynn's gone before she can change her mind, so he takes her seat - and a meatroll from D'ani's plate. Well, one of his plates, since he has an extra and all. Before Borodin bites down, he looks to Rayval. "It's good to know how. That, or to have a good stock of excuses."

At least it wasn't all in seriousness. Ravyal looks much relieved, even if he barely has time to say anything before Therynn and the other candidate go rushing off. He shakes his head just slightly then, plucking a small bit of cheese off his plate to nibble on. "S..social enhancement? That sounds..um..precarious." And would depend a lot on not stepping on anyone's toes. "I've never really had any..occasion..to learn how. But I guess..I guess it wouldn't be bad.."

"Thanks Borodin," D'ani, expressing his gratitude even though belatedly, is nonetheless appreciative. He nudges the heaping plate towards the vintner, retaining the smaller. "You'll work it off." He won't. Unless wrestling with crutches while navigating back corridors counts as exercise. Himself? He's reaching for the (unfortunately) weak ale to take a mouthful while listening to the others. Swallowing, "Oh it is," he says to Ravyal. Precarious. "You'll be getting lessons if you impress. At least of the formal dancing. But maybe if Theyrnn's also a weyrling 'shaking it' may be added to the class."

Precarious? "Only if you…" Hmm. On second thought… "Sometimes." Borodin has a nibble of the food that… apparently, Finnian brought for him? "I will?" He spends most of his days standing around watching things brew! …well, and wrestling kegs, but still. Not that he pushes the plate away, mind you. It can be an early dinner? Borodin snorts at D'ani's mention of 'shaking it', and shakes his… head. "It's not so hard as it seems. You know how to walk, right? Dancing's that, except the music says how fast." Borodin is not an expert dancer.

Ravyal tilts his head just a little. "Normally I don't walk..facing people a few inches from me. Or less." And /less/ room is even scarier. The candidate shakes his head a little though, and peers at D'ani curiously. "I'd..heard something about dancing lessons for weyrlings. That's true?" Apparently so! "I guess..well. If I'm not just being tossed up on some dancefloor and told to /do/ it..it'd be okay to learn.." But alas. His snack plate is empty! With a little frown, the former weaver sighs and backs away from the table again. "I should get back to…everything. Before someone..well..calls. Bye!" Off! Off he goes!

You want precarious? Try dancing on crutches. Over the rim of his raised mug D'ani lifts his brows at Borodin's assertion. Riiiiight. Fast walking. "I think I've forgotten how," he says dryly. He'll relearn though! It's like falling off a bike… or something. Ravyal's comment draws a smile. "You have a point. But yes. It's true." There'll be lessons. Yay? He's going for one of those spiced meatrolls - mmm! Not bland infirmary sop. "See you," the Weyrsecond doesn't know all the names and so doesn't use one but the candidate gets a casual wave. He's apparently used to quick departures from them. To Borodin, "Can I talk you into deliveries to the infirmary?" Please. Get the healers drunk. It'll make escapes easier.

Borodin grins to Rayval. "Point. You probably don't want to, either. They tend to stop suddenly… and ask you what you're doing and if there's a problem." He nibbles a berry, contemplatively, then adds, "If someone asks you if there's a problem, there usually is." The grin eases to a more serious expression, and he nods about those lessons, then glances to D'ani. "Maybe you can join them. Show off your… wild moves." The crutch-flail! The one-leg hop! D'ani will be a dance sensation. Borodin's amusement is back, and then he looks back over to Rayval. "There's a lot of everything, once you take it all into account." He waves. "Good luck getting out ahead." Then it's back to dinner with D'ani, and Borodin snorts. "I have some herb liqueurs, how're those? They can pass for medicinal if you squint." And after a few shots, oh yeah, you'll be squinting.

D'ani snorts good-naturedly at Borodin. Wild moves indeed! He's noted that shift to serious but the brevity forestalls commentary. That's stored away for later, though. For now the snack - mostly the ale - is savored for what it is. "Medicinal, hmm?" He grins crookedly, though squinting sounds about right. "I prefer to keep my eyes closed altogether when I'm in there." Speaking of which, if it's really been as long as a couple of fortnights? He needs to lobby for release. He's going to do that now, in fact, fumbling for his crutches and rising, he sticks a few of those cookies in his pocket for later, then drains his mug. "Thanks again Borodin. I'll seeya later." And off he goes, practicing a few steps - the walking sort - between awkward crutch use. Maybe he'll convince the healers he doesn't need them…

Ale is definitely medicinal, yes. Oh, and so are other beverages! Borodin grins. "Sure. Put enough herbs in it and anything's a medicine." The healers… might not entirely agree, but who's asking them? Borodin grins, and nods to D'ani. "So's sleep." Drunken dazes are medically… uh… right, not asking the healers. Because really, what do they know? "No problem," Borodin says, and waves. "Good luck." Whether that's healing up, or convincing the healers that he's done so. Either way… he may well need it, because that walk… well… it's not going to win first prize. Not by a long shot. Then again, at least it's a step (ha) in the right direction.