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.


What time of the day is it? Well, it's around evening time and on the later end of the final meal being served. Already staff from the kitchen are looking itchy, eyeballing whomever comes in to see just how longer it'll be until they can finally clean up and go home. Or elsewhere. It's likely that the only reason anyone would notice the short, rail thin kid dressed mostly in black against the contrast of his milky white skin is because the meal crowd has died down. He enters from the direction of the bowl, with hands shoved so far down into his pockets he might just be touching his knees. Shoulders slumped, his entire demeanor just screams do not touch, from the mess of hair on his head to the piercing on his down-turned lips. He makes his way towards the remnants of whatever is left after the bulk of people have already been fed and snorts softly to himself.

Abigail is off sitting on her own at the leadership type table, which given that knot on her shoulder shows she's ok to be there. A stack of paperwork is sitting next to her all done it seems, and even has a large golden firelizard settled upon it as if guarding said paperwork from the wills of who knows what. Abbey is sipping at her drink, a curious look is sent towards the movement of someone entering and she just watches Jaelyn quietly with a brow lifting. The Weyrsecond is attempting to recall this one, which really dressed like that should be a giveaway.

There is a knot on the boy's shoulder, but its for Ista Weyr not Fort. This might very well explain why Abigail hasn't seen this particular lad around. Hands still shoved deep in those pockets of his pants, Jaelyn continues to peruse the leavings available, half bent over them before he huffs audiably and finally grabs a plate. He piles what is left of some roast wherry and covers it with gravy. Very thick, having been sitting there a while gravy. Some steamed tubers and a glass of cold water to finish it off and the kid drops himself heavily into the closest empty chair. Thump. Those ankle-boots sound heavy, and might have reinforced toes. Everything about this child just spells trouble, like a giant neon sign flashing over his head. Danger.

Abigail hums softly to herself while watching still, if she was worried about anyone being dangerous she would never admit it mind you. With her firelizard guarding her paperwork she stands up and moves on towards where the newcomer happens to now be sitting. She finally catches sight of the Ista knot which explains why she has not seen the boy around. "Evening." Is offered while she looks curiously to him. So help her if her son's every attempt to dress up like this. "Welcome to Fort."

Gold eyes slide over towards the soft humming, the expression on Jaelyn's face missing as he coolly regards the Weyrsecond even as he calmly stuffs an overly generous mouthful of wherry past his lips and chews. At least he has the manners to not smack those lips loudly, even if he's sitting rather nonchalant and boneless in his chair. It might seem as if there is some quiet appraisal, but a closer look might suggest he's looking through the woman rather than at her. A brow lifts ever so slightly at the greeting, swallowing and licking a smattering of gravy off his finger before a still boyish soft voice mutters, "Hey." Away those oddly colored eyes go and he's back to his meal, methodically bringing fork to mouth in a mechanical gesture of necessity rather than enjoyment. "Greeting to Fort Weyr and her queens…or whatever…" he says back, this time not sparing a look Abigail's way.

Abigail is rather certain at least one of her kids will pull this at some point, for they will enjoy tormenting there mother after all. She keeps a light hold of her mug and lifts a brow while just watching the other. She looks a bit amused honestly and even shakes her head a touch. "Better then some others have answered before at least." This offered to his 'whatever'. "What brings ye ta Fort, a visit perhaps?" Or who know maybe he is sticking around. Which if so she wants to know thank you very much.

Jaelyn shrugs his shoulders lightly for Abigail's offered first statement, as if he may feel he wasn't there to make a good first impression or some such. Though when the woman continues to converse with him, he drops his fork to the nearly empty plate before him picks up his glass of water. It might appear at first that the boy had no intention of replying, however, after he has wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket and set his glass back down those golden eyes float back over, "Parents sent me to go live with my grandma." he replies plainly. Welcome to Fort indeed.

Abigail continues to watch Jaelyn for a few long moments, she hums a touch while lifting her head as she glances off before she look back to the boy. "I see." This is said with a soft tone. "Who is yer grandma then?" Well now she is super curious. "It is good to have ye here in Fort. Yer have ta get use ta the winter's though. Nothing like 'em around Pern save for HighReaches of course." She is attempting to strike up some sort of conversation to see what makes thi kid tick it wold seem.

"Her name's Ponya." Jaelyn replies, the tone of his voice absent, distant even, as if answering from a far away place rather then being intentive and engaging. One might even go so far as to call the tone, bored. "Used to live in Eastern, but retired and moved up here. For some shardin' dumb reason or whatever…" he mutters towards the end, "…Eastern's at least closer to the weather at home, fuckin' snow…" This last statement may be lost to the clattering of a platter heaved a touch too enthusiastically back somewhere in the kitchen, redirecting the boys gaze that direction. A pause later, he glances back at the Weyrsecond, "I got a coat." Because that's what matters here.

Abigail just eyes him slightly, seems she caught the comment the plates wasn't loud enough! "Indeed it is good to have a coat… Also good to control what one says at times." Don't make her pull the motherly tone cause she will. "Are ye in a craft?" She won't be picking at him to much longer, but it isn't bad to find a few things out about the boy right?

The boy doesn't seem either care about or hear the threat of a motherly tone, it seeming to roll of his back like water to a duck. "Computer." he says, drinking down the last of his water and setting the glass back down on the counter. There was no craft knot to go along with the Ista knot, nor any other indication that he might be speaking the truth there, but then again… "You?" It's asked ironically, because one can plainly see the Weyrsecond knot on the woman's shoulder, though perhaps he was curious as to whether or not she had hobbies.

Abigail ahs a bit, well that could explain a few things perhaps. Not that she knows alot about computers in all honesty. "I think yer do fine around here then." There is a pause at the question. "Weyrsecond, often work with Search and Rescue." Her hobby perhaps? There is a slight nod seen before she turns needing to go it seems. "Good ta have ye around, welcome again to Fort." This said as she moves to pick up her paperwork. "I'm sure we wll run into one another soon enough." With that she is making her way on out from the cavern with that gold firelizard settled upon her shoulder.


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