Who Aignes, Kezresan, Phineas
What Aignes attempts to thaw out, Kezresan attempts to cook things, and Phineas attempts to consume all the sugar. GOOD TIMES.
When Winter - Month 1 of Turn 2718
Where Kitchen, Fort Weyr

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Fort Weyr - Kitchen
After rising up an imposing flight of steps you enter an elaborate vaulted ceiling. The delicious smells that gently infuse the air drift out from this portion of the cavern. The head cook, Rickard, bustles about creating the masterpiece dishes that the weyr as a whole consumes. His extensive collection of prized copper cookware hangs upon their custom-made racks, reflecting soft light back out into the cavern proper. A handful of sub-cooks and helpers are engaged in an variety of food preparations, moving briskly but efficiently about their work. A pair of spit canines trot in their wicker wheels, continuously turning the spits with their slowly roasting joints that hiss and crackle over the fires.


It's with a mighty shiver that Aignes rushes into kitchens. Sure, many a candidate might come in trying to shirk chores or sneak a prime snack before it's set out to the mercies of the caverns, but the weaver-turned-candidate seems to have no eye for food which would make the kitchens a weird place to be if it weren't for the fact that she makes a bee-line right towards the largest of the hearths. Without a word, she threads through the busy kitchens until finally she can just cozy on up to the stone next to the fire. Not close enough to threaten being caught on fire or be in the way, but still near enough for radiant heat to be a thing as she stands there massaging at begloved hands.

Phineas knows Aignes' pain. While he's certainly not washing dragons, he has spent the /entire/ day hacking ice on the many, many stairs in the central bowl. He's tired. He's freezing. He's more then a little bit cranky over the substandard treats that are on offering in the living cavern. That being the case, Finn is a man on a mission. Surely there /must/ be at least a box of Carellos cookies to be found in the kitchen. There are not. But that does not mean he is not going to make the attempt. At the moment, even the thought of getting caught 'shirking' is not enough to keep him away. He /needs/ sugar.

And Kezresan? Nice and dry and probably a bit too warm in the kitchens. He's been here all day, rotated around to a variety of menial tasks that he can't possibly screw up. And now? Now he's at the hearth, keeping an eye on the flames and turning a spit to ensure the roast cooks evenly. A fine sheen of sweat glistens across exposed skin, indicative of a lengthy stay by the flames. That he takes his job seriously? Clear in the furrow of his brow and the set of his jaw. The appearance of Aignes startles him, and his gaze jumps from roast to candidate in a flash. "What are you…" but those brown eyes take in the signs, lips pursed briefly before he asks, "What were you doing?" The same question is not offered to Phineas. Kez has a pretty good idea what he was doing, and what he is probably doing right now. "Top shelf, behind the jar labeled 'dried peas'," he offers with a scowl.

Brrrrr! Aignes is definitely a bit red in the face, and not the blushing type today! Her nose and cheeks are bright and rosy from time spent outside and when Kezresan asks what it was she was doing, the woman rolls her eyes a bit in disbelief. "Scrubbing dragons. There was so much hide!" Not to mention, so much cold down by the lake. Nevermind this is just Fort and not like trying to scrub a dragon during High Reaches winter or anything. As the wild Phineas appears, Aignes watches fairly closely, her own eyebrows furrowing as he starts searching. "Did you hide the cookies only to tell him where they were?" Just to double check before judging actually commences.

"You are the best," Finn notes with a lopsided smile aimed at Kezresan. Without missing a beat, he snags a few rolls off a passing tray and pulls the sugar down from the shelf. A few moments later, that roll is filled to bursting with sugar and Finn? Actually groans when he takes a bite out of it. "Oh.. man…" The jar of sugar? Tucked under his arm as he moves closer to the hearth. "I've never been so hungry in my life," he whispers as he takes another bite of that roll. "There are no more cookies, Connie," he mumbles around a mouthful of food. "Care is with us." And those things they are calling cookies? NOT COOKIES. "Want some?" He asks as he thrusts the sugar-filled roll toward her face.

"The cookies?" snorts Kezresan. "No way." But he did hide the sugar? Or, really, "I just saw where they put it," he offers with a shrug, turning back to the important task of turning meat. Monotonous, but important! "Why on Pern would anyone was their dragon in the dead of winter? How did you even break through the ice?!" Madness! Clearly, Kez thinks this is madness. The gratitude of Phineas is waved off with a roll of his eyes. "Rather tell you where it is, than have you tear up the kitchens looking for it," and that's the excuse he'll stick with. A slant of his gaze, a quick once-over, and he decides, "You could definitely stand to eat more," for the skinny sugar-thief.

Aignes watches in horror, although not horrified enough to actually be jaw dropping, as the sugar is applied directly to the roll and then consumed. Any hand massaging is temporarily forgotten in the shock. "How are you alive???" Serious question here as she blinks at Phineas and then turns to the nearest medical expert. "How is he alive?" And as for own hypothesis on how someone can exist on a diet of pure sugar, she'll offer it. "Is he a giant cookie?" You are what you eat after all. As for chores, she shrugs. "The blue broke up the ice. He didn't mind it. And had sprung his wing so we couldn't go anywhere warmer. Dragon hide is apparently very delicate and regular bathing is important." Facts you learn during candidacy.

"Works for me," Finn allows with an easy smile. He's got the sugar and he really doesn't care what the motivation in giving it to him was. "I agree," is added in the wake of Kez' observation. And, naturally, he uses his free hand to scoop out a handful of sugar and shove it into his mouth. (The other one? Still holding the sugar sandwich out to Aignes). "Won't hep," he mumbles around a mouthful of raw sugar. "Can't gain weight no matter what I eat." Although, in all seriousness? It has been an issue for him his whole life. Aignes' comments? They earn her a broader— and sugary-ier smile. "Dunno, I'm that good?" Course, when she declines the sugar sammich, he's quick to take another bite.

"Ah," comes because… "That makes sense," for blue dragons and injuries. "It is," agrees Kez for the delicacy of dragonhide. "The infirmary shares a wall with the dragon's side; I can hear the dragonhealers talking." And he might occasionally eavesdrop on them. "Cracked hide is apparently a big deal." All in the name of science! Speaking of science… "I have no idea," how Phineas is still alive. Or if he's a cookie. "Lick him and find out?" Course now he's watching him, that sharp-eyed look that one might turn on an interesting laboratory specimen. A shudder comes at the straight-up sugar eating, a face coming as he turns to observe the spit once again. "That… sounds like a problem," and now Finn has Kezresan's full attention, meat ignored in favor of this interesting plight. "Have you been to see a healer about this?"

"I hadn't thought about that," Aignes will admit to the fact she really hadn't considered the two infirmaries were so close. Probably because the only time she's been in the one was because she herself was sick and not really in the mood to be contemplating anything besides breathing. For now though, she'll wrinkle up her nose at the thought of licking their fellow candidate. "You first." A dare she probably hopes nobody follows through on because surely she'll welsh out on following through. But she'll be more than willing to toss her own opinions in when it comes to talking about Finn's sugar problem. "Have you tried eating something besides sugar? Like some wherry? Tubers?" She's not trying to be fancy here! or even very healthy. baby steps would be an improvement from pure sugar.

Phineas nods his head far to energetically in response to Kez. "Yup. Or I was, when I was kid," he admits in the wake of swallowing the mouthful of food. "They had me drinking these horrible drinks with every meal. Did nothing." Tasted like raw kale and seaweed. It was vile. "Don't," he adds as he takes another bite of the sugwhich. "Bother any more." Shrugging, he licks sugar off his lips and flashes another lopsided smile. He's come to terms with the fact that he'll never be muscular, or anything other then to damned skinny. "Hey," he adds. "I'm clean! Come on now, I just eat a lot of sweets." Huffing, he follows that with another handful of sugar being shoved into his mouth. He does, however, nod quickly to Aignes. "I have," he assures in the wake of swallowing. "I like meat, just…" Shaking his head, he grimaces. "Not veggies. Sweet is better."

"That," Whether Aignes is pointing to the remainds of the sug-wich or the handfuls of sugar or both is debatable. "Is obscene." She'll just shake her head and finally takes off those gloves so she can inspect and see if there was any damage from the winter-dragon-bath before she was able to put her gloves back on, now that the fingers are starting to regain feeling. "And even if you are clean, I don't make it a habit to lick random people." Or any people.

"Really?" Clearly, Finn is surprised at that, surprised enough that he momentarily forgets the sugar in hand. "I dunno, Connie, a licking, properly done can be a lot of fun." Yes, he follows it with a rise and fall of his brows. "You been seeing the wrong guys, clearly." And then he takes a bite of that sandwich, cause nothing is better then dinner and a movie.

Aignes has no words to respond to that as her face grows red and her eyes widen. There is definitely a show of all sorts of expressions crossing her face as it transitions just from shock to embarrassment to finally settling on flustered with just a smidge of vexation on the side as she tries to find her tongue again. "I don't think that's any of your business." Also, it would imply that she has been seeing guys, plural. It may be that poor Roger-the-mannequin is the only guy in her life and he's been left to the mercies of the apprentices now that she's accepted candidacy.

"You opened the door," Finn points out with a cheeky smile. "I just walked in. I mean, it's fine," he assures. "I'm not at all surprised." What that means? Who knows, but Finn's relaxed and smiling as he steps a bit closer to the fire. It is in the wake of another bite of his sugar sandwich that he adds. "It's okay to wait you know." In case she was about to get all girl flustered.

"I didn't open any door!" Aignes crosses her arms as she stares at Finn. "But you definitely did walk yourself in to whatever." She huffs and as he takes on step closer she'll take a step over. Distance must be maintained and it's far too late to prevent the weaver from getting flustered. "I don't think you're the best person to be giving any advice about waiting for anything." Advice on how to grab all the cookies, go to Finn. But for self control tips? Anybody else, probably.

Phineas exhales a surprisingly warm laugh, pale blue eyes slanting a pointed look at Aignes. "Oh, I assure you, Connie. I have not waited." There's a reason all those girls, and at least a few boys, were so willing to do his work for him, after all. Finn allows a moment for that to sink in before he winks and takes another bite of his sandwich. "Dun worry, ye're safe."

Aignes doesn't really need to be assured of that considering she was already assuming, but still, the red does creep back up her neck, even as she tries to stare back at her fellow candidate, but the last just catches her off guard and her heads quirks to the side. "Safe from what? Cavities?" Back to those sugar sandwiches…

Phineas exhales another low laugh, a winsome smile tracing over his lips as his shoulders rise and fall in a calm shrug. "Does it really matter," he asks pointedly. "I mean, clearly it's not in your…" trailing off, he waves the sugar sandwich in an absent gesture indicating her person. "You know," he adds before taking another bite. Finn? Not even a little bit worried about cavaties. "I assure you, my oral hygiene is impeccable." Again, he just couldn't let it pass him by.

Aignes looks Phineas up and down as he trails off, but when the sandwich gestures back to her, by reflex she kind of draws the oversized sweater she's wearing just a little bit closer as if to hide behind the fabric. It'll protect her from the cold and evil sugar-loafs. "Clearly." As for the oral hygiene, her own bluee eyes stare back at him with one eyebrow pointedly raised. "Uh huh… I honestly don't think I've ever seen you without something sugary in hand."

"True," Finn points out as he pushes the last of the sandwich into his mouth. Chewing and swallowing, he wipes his lips on the back of his hand and glances at the fire. While he's not likely to admit it? It feels amazing to finally be warm. "But then, I've never seen you not acting like an old auntie, but I assume it has to happen, occassionally." In the wake of the words, he slants a glance back toward her, pointedly flicking his attention to the sweater before flashing a lopsided smile. "Maybe not."

Apparently, Kezresan was missing one HELL of a conversation when he got pulled away for the super important task of cutting fingerroots. But he's apparently done now, and being ushered back to the hearth by an annoyed looking woman. "I was being /precise/," he argues, though it's no use because she's already stomping away and leaving the healer-turned-candidate-turned-kitchenaid to the mercy of Phineas and Aignes. Huff. "Who's an auntie?"

"Me apparently. And an old one," Aignes will fill Kezresan on that much as least even if she's gonna be firmly sticking to her hearth corner. It's warm and she's not willing to give it up even if it means having to put up with Phineas and his crazy sugar ways. "I do have a couple nephews though. And a niece." So the auntie part is true enough even if that wasn't what was meant.

"Connie," Finn provides to Kez with a dip of head in Aignes' direction. "I'd have thought being a healer, you'd be all about the precise cuts," he muses as he glances after the stomping woman. "She's probably upset your cuts were neater then hers." It's the most logical conclusion to come to, really. "See," he adds to Aignes in the wake of her last. "Never wanted kids," he admits as he resettles into a more comfortable lean against the hearth. Yes, he is still hugging the jar of sugar and not at all likely to give it up. "Maybe someday, but… I mean, kids are great if you can give em back."

"I am," insists Kezresan with a scowl. "Apparently, precision was to slow." Because cutting a single carrot should not take ten minutes? Whatever, lady. So he's back to spit turning, reaching out to once more idly turn the roast. "Oh." For Aignes being a literal aunt, a furrow of dark eyebrows making it clear that he's confused. A snort, and he decides, "Kids are annoying," as his gaze goes to the meat he's carefully turning. A clench of his jaw and a roll of his shoulders. "If you're still cold, you should drink something hot," he urges Aignes without looking at her.

"At least you still have all your fingers," Aignes can find the bright side there, even as she wiggles a couple of her own fingers in demonstration. And she did manage to keep her own despite the freezing water. "Nieces and nephews are easier than having kids," not that she would know about actually having kids, but assumptions can be made! "Although I've only seen them like… twice." It's a long way to Boll to whatever minehold she came from. "And I'm fine. Really." It's toasty in the corner.

"I think they look for reasons to be displeased with us," Finn admits with a snort. Course, at the moment, he is loafing and to his own surprise, he actually feels a little bit guilty about that. It'll pass, though, he's certain of that. "I see my sisters everyday," he admits. "Well I did before all this started. They're probably worried." Which inspires a frown to tracing over his lips. "Hopefully I can get the last of the stairs done before it snows again." He can hope.

A squint toward Aignes, suspicion clear in Kezresan's gaze before he seems to decide that she's telling the truth. Back to the spit, turning-turning. It at least gives him something else to look at. "You have sisters?" Did Kez know this about Finn? He can't remember. "Huh." But whatever he thinks of it, he doesn't say. "You're still doing the stairs?" Disbelieve colors Kezresan's tone as he turns a look on Phineas. "Maybe less sugar-eating, and more… salting the stairs?" Just a suggestion.

Aignes raises yet another eyebrow at Finn. it's like it's perpetual state around him. "If you actually did your chores, maybe they'd be less displeased?" Not happy. Just less displeased. "You can see them when you get a rest day? Or at dinner?" She's just assuming they are still at Fort cause of the whole used to seeing them every day bit. And as for the question about sisters, she'll answer that one as well even if it was directed at her. "I have three sisters. And too many brothers."

"Three," Finn informs Kez. Mena is fourteen and works with our mother blowing glass. The twins, Trini and Khara are six and utterly adorable." That he loves them utterly? Clear in the uncharacteristic softening of his features. It's the mention of the stairs that has him sighing. "Yes, I am. There are a lot of stairs and the ice was allowed to get thick. I'm almost done, though." It's the last that has him snorting. "I was up all night, Kez. Seriously, all night." He exhausted and hurts everywhere. Slanting a look at Aignes, he snorts as he pushes off the hearth and sets the sugar down. "Right, cause I'm useless. Got it, Connie, thanks." Now he's upset, but really, that has more to do with the fact that he thinks he actually hurt Kassala. "Have a goodnight," he states to both before moving toward the door.

"I see." But whatever it is that Kez sees? He's not going to elaborate on that. Instead, he's going to dedicate himself to the task of turning that spit until… well. Apparently his skills (his HEALER skills) are needed elsewhere. ZOOM.


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