Who Kezresan, Aignes, Phineas
What Kez. Finn and Aignes have a bit of a break in chores.
When Winter.
Where Fort Weyr, Kitchen


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.//

Finn has come to the conclusion that Rickard, the head cook, is not quite as bad as he had thought. Sure, he yells. He yells ALOT, but that yelling can be tempered with ample praise and excitement regarding whatever happens to be cooking at the moment. Excitement is something Finn is particularly good at and it's netted him the sweet (pun intended) task of decorating trays upon trays of cookie. The best part? The broken cookies are fair game for on the spot consumption. Such being the case it is a fair bet that Finn has consumed at least half his body weight in cookies, so far. The moment, however, finds him with his tongue pushed into the corner of his mouth and his brow furrowed as he goes about the business of piping flowers around the edges of the cookies arranged on the tray in front of him. Fortunately, things that involve sugar are his favorite things. That being the case, he's making a point to take care and do it just right. Even so, the smear of frosting along one cheek and across his brow assures that as much of the sugary goodness has gone into Finn as it has on the cookies.

Know what definitely does not involve sugar? Blood. Guts. Dead things. And while Kez definitely has a fair share of the latter, the former (at least the guts part) has already been taken care of. He is looking decidedly less healer-y (and less candidate-y, if that's a thing) in this moment, striding through the kitchen with a string of (dead) rabbits strung together and hung over a shoulder. At least they used to be rabbits. You can tell, because the paws and the heads are still fuzzy and normal looking (ears and eyes and all). But the rest? The rest is skinned clean and gutted. There's a little blood, but it's not gushing or anything. And he's nice enough to keep a respectable distance from that cookie-piping happening. "Where do you want these?" He does /not/ slam a dead rabbit on the table, but he does heft them up, letting them dangle by the wire that still holds them, to demonstrate what it is he's talking about. A frown and a lean toward Phineas, potentially crossing those personal boundary lines, before he helpfully points out, "You've got something on your face…"

Is sweeping maintenance? It's at least maintaining something and that's what Aignes is doing. Maybe the poor handyman have finally taken pity on her after the last debacle with the computer lab and the endless cables. It's with a bit of a frown that she sweeps her way over towards Finn's station and more importantly all the crumbs that come along with the cookie monster. Before she can criticize anything, KEzresan provides a distraction and those rabbits are plenty distracting. "You should give those to the cooks." Like now. Before she needs to replace her broom with a mop. Even if it's only a little blood at the moment.

Finn responds to Kez by swiping a line of frosting down one of the healer-candidate's cheeks. "Now you have something on your face," he points out with a lopsided smile and a cheeky wink. In the wake of the words, he glances at the rabbits and grimaces mildly before tilting his chin toward the hearth in the back of the room. "They've been waiting for those," he admits. Fortunately waiting has not yet become yelling. Glancing over at Aignes he exhales a wry laugh, his brows twitching mildly. "Not up for mopping? Have a cookie, they just now got cool enough to eat. But take a broken one or Rikard'll be crawling up your backsides with a rolling pin."

Whatever Kezresan was expecting, it was definitely not a line of frosting onto his cheek. It is so unexpected that, for a few seconds at least, the healer-candidate simply stands there with a look of utter shock on his face. As though he has absolutely no idea how to respond to such a thing. What does one DO in such a situation?! Kez doesn't know. But he has to do something, and so after a moment, two, three, he's slowly leaning back and looking terribly disapproving. A lift of his hand (only a LITTLE bloody from the outdoor adventure) and he swipes that frosting right back off his face. At least the insistence from Aignes, and Finn's follow-up, regarding what to do with the rabbits gives him something to do. Turning on his heels, he marches toward the hearth and the cooks, promptly handing over his bounty with little fuss. And then there is a detour to the sink (there has to be at least one sink in the kitchen, right?!) to wash up a bit. And there's definitely a bit of side-eye, over the shoulder peering for Aignes and Phineas.

Don't worry! Aignes is equally horrified at frosting being placed on cheeks. Enough so that she takes an involuntary step back and positions the broom in front of here as if that's at least some protection while she cautiously eyes Kezresan's trail towards the hearth (and more importantly if he's actually leaving a trail of animal fluids). Apparently not enough that she needs to take action at the moment. The weaver just gives a bit of a shrug and continues to sweep. Finn's offer of cookies is met with a blink. "But I already ate." Like breakfast. A couple hours ago. If you count klah and a piece of melon eating.

The sound of Phineas' pleased laugh follows Kezresan across the kitchen, pale eyes twinkling with amusement as he snags a broken cookie, slathers it with frosting, and stuffs it in his mouth. Course, he makes a point to frost another pair of broken pieces before setting them aside for Kezresan and Aignes. "I really shouldn't tease him like that," he notes to Aignes with a wry smile. "I just can't help myself, though." How could he given Kez's reactions. At her last, he snorts and shoves the frosted cookie half toward her. "Having already eaten only makes the cookie taste better," he assures her.

No animal fluids were left in the candidate's wake, thank Faranth! Kez did a darn good job cleaning his kills before bringing them in; they're not even dripping anymore! And now they're in the hands of a butcher, or a cook, or someone more suited to the task of making it edible. Once his hands (and his face) are clean and reasonably dry, he treks cautiously back to the cookie table. The suspicion is evident when he makes sure there's at least two arms-lengths between him and Finn, enough that a re-piping of frosting would be quite a feat indeed. "Ate?" because he at least caught that part of it, gaze flicking between Aignes and Phineas. "I'm pretty sure it's the other way around — /not/ having eaten would make the cookie taste better… because you would be hungry."

"But having eaten, I'm not hungry now," Aignes does speak those possibly contentious words as if it's a simple fact. Sweep, sweep, sweeeeeeep. "And you probably shouldn't." Tease, of course. And once Kez comes back rabbit free, she gives a nod of greeting. "Looks like there were some pretty good snares?" Or else someone is mighty good with a crossbow. "Make sure not to get any crumbs on the floor, please." A request for both her fellow candidates as she works her way over towards the nearest waste bin. Luckily, being a kitchen, there isn't really a shortage of the things around so she doesn't have to go too far.

"Cookies are great regardless of when you eat them," Finn huffs. Noting Kez's distance, another quiet chuckle hums in his throat, his brows twitching mildly as he glances at the piping bag. "Course, I'm pretty sure I've eaten as many as I've frosted," he allows. "They never get old, though." Aignes' remarks having him gaping, however, a low snort exhaled as he shakes his head. "Eating cookies is about joy," he points out. "Not hunger. You two keep this up and you'll be old way before your time."

"You've said that before," argues Kez, for being old before his time. "And it's simply not true. I cannot be any older than I am." Huff. But he will eat that broken cookie, swiping it from the table before any unfortunate frosting-events can happen to hand or cheek. "Yes," for the snares, offered before he lifts the cookie for a hesitant bite. "I don't mind hunting with a bow, but it seemed more… practical this way. Expedient." A dismissive shrug, and then a bite of the cookie. "Mm. It is good," he admits. But crumbs on the floor? Of the kitchen? That has Kez frowning at Aignes, and more than likely about to argue some sort of logical point about how it is utterly impossible not to get crumbs on the floor of a place in which food is prepared (and consumed). But rather than voice them, he just takes another bite of that broken cookie. chomp

Aignes just rolls her eyes. "Eating cookies is about eating. It's in the name." And she's not even going to acknowledge the age thing. All the healthy diet and lack of fun, dangerous things and she may just end up living to a ripe old age of a hundred and three! As for hunting, she gives a nod. "Bow is good for larger game, like wherries. But if you're trying to get more than one rabbit at a time…" She shrugs. "A couple good lines are all you need. And as impractical as the task might be, Aignes is going to keep to her quest to try and keep the kitchens crumb free. She's got some maintaining to do after all!

"It bears repeating," Finn notes with a lopsided smile. "It would be a shame for two good looking people to be old and wizened before they've had a chance to really live." He's having a grand time, clearly and it shows in the twinkle in his eyes as he pushes another broken cookie into his maw. Has he broken a few on purpose? >.> Probably. He does, however, glance at Aignes and chuckle at her response, his tongue flicking out to lick frosting off his lips. "Cookies /exist/ to make you feel good, silly." Hunting? He's not chiming in on that, he's a mess with a bow.

Another squinty-eyed look for Phineas, though Kez uses the excuse of a cookie in his mouth as reason enough not to respond to the wizened comments. He's far more likely to form wrinkles from all that scowling, than lack of fun and frosting. A defensive mutter beneath his breath comes as he considers the last bite of his cookie, though he doesn't bother to offer it loud enough to be heard and responded too. A final bite, a bit of chewing, and that cookie is toast. "Mmhm," for a few good snares. "I didn't want to be crouched in the snow all day. Easier to set traps and come back. Maybe in the summer, I'll go out with a bow." His fingers even twitch at the thought, before he's crossing his arms and leaning back against a convenient surface behind him. The existence of cookies has him frowning, but apparently Kez can't think of a deeply philosophical response, as all he offers is, "I think they exist because a baker makes them." It might be an attempt at a joke. Maybe.

"In the summer, you could be either a healer or a weyrling," Aignes is going to point out as she scoops the pile of crumbs into the bin and makes her way back to the cookie table. Unless Kez wants to be one of those folks that bounces from Weyr to Weyr until aging out. She gives a bit of dubious glance towards the frosting piles (masquerading as cookies). "I feel like I'd get sick to my stomach if I ate that. Like, I've seen you eat them too many times and I still don't know how its possible…"

Phineas chuckles at what, from Kezresan, is a grand joke. The fact that he appreciates the humor, though, is clear in the twinkle in blue eyes. "Fair point." Which inspirs a longsuffering sigh as he polishes off another crumbled cookie. "I miss Carellos' cookies, though." As Aignes returns, his smile broadens, his shoulders rising and falling in a slow shrug. "I eat cookies constantly and have never had so much as a stomach ache," he admits. "But I'm weird." And he's proud enough of that that he can admit it. "I'm putting marks on you both being weyrlings," he admits. "Hopefully with hyperactive dragons that want to play /all/ the time." Cause it would do them /both/ a world of good.

"I… true," admits Kezresan with a touch of resignation. A healer, or a weyrling. Because Kez is definitely not the type to hop Weyrs. So he fiddles with a spot on his jacket, blunt nails scratching at dried blood without really seeing it. "I admit, I've thought the same," he agrees, happily seizing upon the topic of Phineas and his shockingly large consumption of confections, cookies among them. "How you eat them without…" but he doesn't finish that thought, because if any of them might be able to answer that question, it ought to be the healer, right? And Kez has no idea. "You are weird," he agrees, in a tone that is entirely honest. The mention of marks and weyrlings? That has him almost rolling his eyes. "Don't waste your money on foolish bets. Its chance," at least, from their side of things it's chance. Only those yet unhatched babies know who's gonna be picked, and they're not talking!

"Although nothing is saying a healer can't hunt. Or a rider, once a dragon is big enough although a dragon wouldn't help much with rabbits," Aignes has at least stopped trying to be so industrious and instead places her chin on top of the broomstick's end while she ponders this, although Finn's betting gets a bit of an eyebrow raise. "That sounds like a bit of a curse." Playing sounds like fun and fun sounds exhausting. "And yes, you and your cookies are weird."

Phineas isn't wasting his marks. He's gonna win big, he's certain of that. Rather then comment, though, he stretches, covering a yawn with one hand. How he can possibly be tired with the amount of sugar he consumes in a day is a mystery that will forever go unanswered. "I'm pretty sure it is a curse," he admits in wry tones. "My mother insists that one day I will a passle of children just like me. Course," he admits. "That sounds like a lot of fun to me, so." Naturally, it would sound like fun to Finn.

It's probably because of how much sugar Finn consumes that he's yawning. The crash after the high, you know? Which might be why Kez is eyeing that yawn with a distinctly 'I told you so' look. What, exactly, he 'told' him is left unsaid. "I think baby dragons tend to sleep most of the time, anyways," he decides, brushing off the threat of playful weyrlings. But the thought of a passle of children just like Phineas?! That might just be Kezresan's worst nightmare. Or at least, one of them. "I'll be done by then," he decides, a low murmur meant to soothe him, and likely not meant to be spoken aloud.

That's probably also why Finn can't stop eating sugar because the resulting sugar crash would be enough to level the entire Weyr. "All mothers say that," Aignes would know seeing as how many of her brothers have received the exact same threat. Finn's yawning actually has her glancing over her shoulder as if the yawn could somehow summon someone to catch them slacking and so she proceeds to start sweeping that spot she had already sweeped before. "Done by when?"

Phineas exhales a chuckle at Kezresan's reaction to the thought, pale eyes giving a slow roll. "It would be great fun," he insists. "Who wouldn't want an army of beautiful blonds trailing along in their wake?" And come on, he's a goofball, he's weird, but he's a pretty good looking guy. Course, he can't help but slant a smile at Aignes, his chin dipping in a nod of agreement regarding mothers.

"Oh, no… I just meant…" and now Kez is shaking his head and looking a bit exasperated. "I only meant that if Phineas does end up with a… an army," to borrow the potter's own word, "of children just like him, I will be well past the age to be required to babysit them." Definitely aged out of being a candidate by then. A squint for Phineas, and Kezresan seems to be weighing just how serious he really is on that army of beautiful blonds. "What if they're not blond?" he wonders. "What if they're brown-haired? What if they're not beautiful?" The important questions.

"I'll leave you two to discuss the details of the army of future children. I think the living caverns are calling my broom's name," And with that, it's time for Aignes to sweep her way out of this scene!

"Of course they'll be beautiful," Finn assures. "All children are beautiful. And I happen to like dark hair," he adds with an easy smile. "Just, everyone in my family is blond, so I assume they will be, as well. Actually," he admits. "I'm kind of hoping there will be a red head in the mix. But, who knows, children might not even be in my future." In which case, he can always help out the nannies. "My mother always says as long as they are healthy and happy, the rest will sort itself out."

All children are beautiful. Kez just squints at that, a stubborn look of disbelief clinging to his expression as he shakes his head. Undoubtedly, visions of snot-nosed, cold-and-flu ridden children are dancing through his head right now. But rather than argue on /that/ point, he'll remark on the other. "If the mother is fair haired, maybe. My mother is blonde," he notes. "And clearly, I am not." Shrug. "If you want children, I'm sure you'll get them." Because even those that don't want them, seen to end up with one or two.

"True," Finn allows at the mention of Kez' hair. "But you're beautiful, so that balances it all out." In his mind, at least. It is the last that has him falling silent, his head giving a mild shake. "Maybe. It really depends on who I end up settling down with. I mean, if I end up with another man? Children are not really very likely to happen." You'd /think/ with Kez being a healer, he'd know /that/. "At any rate, I'm in no rush. What happens, happens."

"I… what?" And while it's definitely a question in regards to that beautiful comment, the confusion is not so much that the word is being associated with Kez as it is about, "My hair has nothing to do with being beautiful. Or, rather, the fact that it is /brown/ does not detract… some people like brown hair," he says finally in a huff. "Whatever." Moving right along. It is true that Kezresan is well aware of the inability for two men to conceive a child. Well aware. And so he concedes with a tip of his head and a reconciled, "True. But if you wanted them, I am sure you could find a way. And if you Impress, it is likely to happen as a result of a flight, at least once."

Phineas exhales a laugh, his head giving a slow shake in response to Kezresan's observation. "I just meant you are not unfortunate in appearance," he assures. It's the last that inspires a more serious nod. "Yeah, I know. That's how I came into being. A flight. But, I'm not really counting that as a possibility. If it becomes one, I'll think about it then." He's trying really hard to not let himself get overly thoughtful about a future that might not happen. "It's way to early to start worrying about things like that, though."

"It was the same for me. Or, rather… my parents," admits Kez. "Flight." A lean forward, and he snags another broken cookie, though the frosting is carefully wiped off with a swipe of his finger. "True. Far too early to be considering that eventuality. There is the Hatching first, and then weyrlinghood…" a shrug, and Kezresan takes a bite of his stolen cookie. "The point," he declares, circling back to the prior topic after he's swallowed, "Is that if you /want/ children, you can get them." Another chomp of the cookie, and he pushes up from his leaning space, wiping the frosting on his finger back onto the table to linger amongst cookie crumbs and unfortunate sugar spills. "I have to go check the other traps. Try not to break any more cookies," because Kez is still naive in thinking that they were accidents.

Phineas exhales a quiet laugh at the warning, his brows twitching as he 'accidentally' breaks another cookie. "I'll try, but I'm ever so clumsy," he notes before pushing a piece of the broken cookie into his maw. "Take care, Kez," is offered before he reaches for the piping bag and sets back about the all important business of loading as much frosting as possible on each and every cookie.

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