Who Phineas,R'hra, Kezresan, Aignes
What Pranks in the LC.
When Winter.
Where Fort Weyr, Living Caverns

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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.//


Finn has gotten pretty darned good at folding sheets, matching socks, ironing shirts.. All the things he has never had, nor wanted, to do in the course of his lifetime. Fortunately, the laundry starts early and he's been cut loose til the evening round of washing, drying and folding resumes. Rather then head to the barracks, he's taken up a spot at one of the tables along the wall, a pot (and mug) of klah in front of him, a platter with sweetrolls, scrambled eggs and roast wherry settled close to had. At the moment, however, he's snoozing, his head resting in one hand, a mug of klah forgotten in the other. Course, as is usually the case, there are at least a few girls 'awwwwing' at his impromptu nap from afar.

R'hra is usually all for a good nap catching, problem is there are rules! First being you don't pass out with your shoes on, sorry Finn but thats a party foul. The Bronze rider had come in moments before and caught him asleep, quickly leaving to fetch something from a crafter he has returned and is slowly as not to wake the little man, applying some clear liquid to the hand that holds the Klah mug. He has gotten at least a few fingers and the palm coated and back around the mug. Now we wait..

There is something about having your hand messed with that has Finn snorting in his sleep. Starting awake, he jumps slightly before scrubbing the heel of his hand over his eyes. "What? Who?" Blinking bleary eyes, he casts a confused look up to R'hra, his hand tightening on the mug as he leans back slightly in the chair. "R'hra? When did you get here?"

R'hra grins and pulls up a chair, "Oh about half hour or so, figured I would try to let you sleep. With all that goings on you candidates are going through." He picks up his own mug of Klah and drinks from it asking "What is new in the candidate world?"

"Hnngnnn." The sound is really little more then a groan from Finn, spikey blond hair flopping as he shakes his head and brings the mug to his lips for a long swallow of klah. "You are mean, mean man," he murmurs between sips. "I'm exhausted and if I never see another sheet again? It will be a happy, happy day." Finishing off the klah, he goes to set the mug down with the intention of refilling it and ends up just staring at his hand. (Which will not let go - Thank you glue) "Oh. Ha. Ha. Ha.. Very funny man." Course, the fact that he follows it with an amused snort while reaching for the pot with the /opposite/ hand? Well, it is kinda funny. "What are you up to besides torturing your helpless victims?"

R'hra feigns innocence saying "I don't torture people, well at least not unless they ask for it. What is wrong with your hand?" He is peering down at the mug locked hand now frowning slightly "You got a cramp or something? Maybe you should see a healer?"

Sure, Finn's hand is glued to his mug. But that is going to stop him from refilling it, or from adding more sweetner then klah, or from drinking it. "You know shardin' well what is wrong with my hand," Finn laughs. "You /better/ have solvent with you," he notes before taking another long swallow. "Pssshhh.. /You/ did this." He knows it. Or, at least, he suspects it pretty heavily. "Guess I'm off the hook for sheet folding," he adds with a pleased smirk.

R'hra shakes his head saying "I have no idea man, but if you need to blame me I am ok with that." He leans back a little in his chair and says "So which one of you candidates is meowing in there sleep?" He looks out to the bowl quickly before turning his attention back to Finn.

"Meowing? What?" Still confused, Finn's brows furrow, before abruptly 'ahhhhs' and exhales a wry laugh. "That's not any of us," he notes in the wake of a swallow of klah. "It's…" Whatever he was going to say, however, is foiled when he attempts to gesture with the glued hand and sends klah flying across the table. "Umm… Oops?"

Kezresan's assigned task should be clear enough when he comes striding into the barracks wearing leathers. Clearly, he's meant to be shadowing a dragonrider and has decided to look the part, complete with boots and jacket. But whether he's just getting started or has perhaps been given a break, he's flying solo at the moment. Into the living caverns, straight to the serving area to peruse whatever might be left. In the end, he acquires a small plate of fruit and a pastery or two (maybe a muffin, nothing overly sugared that's for sure!) and his own mug of Klah. The table of choice? Whether by coincidence or intention, he's sliding into an empty chair with R'hra and Phineas just in time to see that Klah go sloshing everywhere. Squint.

R'hra hides a laugh behind his own mug taking a drink before nodding as the healer in leather joins them. "Hey I don't need to know why you kids are making those weird noises, as long as it doesn't break any rules…" He is looking at you Phineas, yes you. Looking over to Kezresan "Enjoying your chore today?"

There are few long moments where Finn just stares at the spilled klah in disbelief before bursting out in his own amused laughter. "Hey, Kez…" Course, in the wake of the greeting he rolls up to his feet and goes to grab a towel, the mug clinging to his hand courtsey of glue. "You know how to get glue off skin," he asks as he returns to wipe down the table. Course, the explaination for the question is made clear when he waves that mugged hand. "No rule breaking," he snorts. Course, he doesn't /think/ it's rule breaking. "Just Cookie." The kitten, although he's neglected to explain that bit.

A bit of a frown follows the bronzerider's question as Kez muses, "I am not sure interning is technically a chore so much as an assignment…" But as that really wasn't really the nature of the question, he does follow that observation with a carefully neutral, "It is alright," that likely leaves much to the imagination about how he actually feels about this. Settled in his seat, he avoids the puddle of Klah and picks small chunks from the top of his muffin. "I do," he acknowledges, eyeing the mug seemingly affixed to the other candidate's hand. "How long has it been… stuck?" As for Cookie the kitten? There's acknowledgement in that expression, but no offer of an explanation. Just a bite of muffin taken as the healer-candidate starts in on his late breakfast.

R'hra holds up a hand saying "Don't explain anymore or I will have to go and look." He looks away from the pair of candidates saying "Because you know that pets other than firelizards are prohibited in the barracks. But that only does apply if you get caught.." Because Rio isn't stupid, reckless and fool hearty yes, but not stupid.

"Not sure," Finn admits as he works at sopping up the puddle of klah. "Not that long, I don't think? Maybe half a candlemark? At the most?" He couldn't have been asleep /that/ long. At least, he doesn't think so. Slanting a glance at R'hra, his lips twitch in a lopsided smile, his chin dipping in a nod. "Got it." No talk about kittens where the 'enemy' can overhear. "So. Solvent?" The last is asked as he raises the mugged hand and waves it energetically. "Maybe?"

A hard look at R'hra for mention of pets in the barracks, but Kez isn't about to say one way or the other whether there is a kitten in the barracks. He'll just eat the top of his muffin in small chunks and use that as an excuse not to comment. It's the mention of how long that mug has been attached to Phineas' hand, and the request for solvent, that has him moving once again. "I'll be right back," he assures, sparing a glance for his plate and then the bronzerider (a suspicious, squinty-eyed look) before he pushes up. Apparently, he's just going to make a little side trip to the infirmary.

R'hra is sitting at a table with Phineas and Kezresan sipping his klah, Finn who is holding his hand with mug outstretched towards Kez seems to have just asked for some assistance with something. Rio for his part is trying very very hard not to laugh, but will say "It can't be that bad.." It is he knows it is, people do it to him all the time.

"THank you!" Finn's call follows along in Kezresan's wake, a merry laugh immediately spilling past his lips. "It is pretty funny, though," he admits as he does his level best (to no avail) to shake the mug off his hand. (it's firmly glued in place, after all). "Could come in handy," he jokes with another wry smile.

Aignes is, for the moment at least, happily mug free although one of the weaver's hands have had its own adventure's today. Mainly some small red scratches. Instead of the food, she makes a bee-line towards her fellow candidates and giving a proper salute to R'hra since he's at the same table. "Kezresan!" And before she can even say hello or whatever else was going to come out of her mouth, the woman's blinking at the mug shaking Phineas. "What did you do?" Because it's always Finn's fault, right?

Kezresan is not gone long at all, returning with a small kit tucked beneath one leather-clad arm. He slides back into his place at the table but pushes his plate to the side to make room for the box. Said box is opened, items within rummaged around with, and a small bottle and swabs removed. Bottle opened, long q-tip like swabby-things dipped, and he turns toward Phineas. "Hand, please?" Obviously, he expects the one with the mug to be given, his own offered palm-up to receive it. The call of his name gives him pause, a somewhat startled look directed toward the approaching Aignes. "…yes…?"

R'hra nods back to Aignes, and still is trying hard not to laugh he is shaking, watching the healer-turned candidate ply his trade skills now. He eyes the young ladies hand saying "Your firerlizard get you again?" It is a valid question as Finn has hinted there is more in the barracks than should be.

Phineas snorts at Aignes, blue eyes rolling in an amused lilt. Course, it's always his fault, he's used to (and amused by) that. "I thought it would be handy to have a mug for a hand," he states in tones that sound perfectly reasonable. "Clearly has not gone to plan." When Kezresan returns, Finn turns over his hand without complaint. He does, however, have a moment where he winces mildly. "This isn't going to hurt my hand, right? I work with those." Potter, yo. "Apparently," he notes to Aignes. "Someone is meowing in their sleep. Unfortunate, since we're not allowed to have things that meow in the barracks. Some of the candidates are not very bright." Subtle hint, Ainges, take it!

"Nothing," Aignes hastily puts her own hand behind her back once it appears Kez is already occupied, although there's a nod of confirmation for R'hra's guess. Also a little yawn and stretch from the leather satchel she's currently wearing. Pin has not graduated to shoulder sitting privileges yet. She stares at Finn for a few seconds before shaking her head. "Mugs don't have thumbs." Clearly the best part about having hands. "The meowing's a nice change from the snoring." Although honestly, it's probably a combination of both.

"No," assures Kezresan, who pauses before actually applying that swab to Phineas' skin. "It's just a solution to remove the adhesive. Won't hurt or damage your hand or skin in any way." Still, he waits a moment longer before applying the cotton end to the space where mug meets hand, dab-dabbing. It's apparently slow going, but the glue will begin to dissolve. As for that 'nothing?' A squinty glance toward Aignes and a press of his lips together that clearly says he is not at all convinced of that. "What did you do?" he asks, turning that question back on the weaver-candidate with a sigh. Apparently, this time it is Aignes' fault? Or perhaps it is that little firelizrad's fault? "Someone glued Phineas' hand to a mug," he explains, still shooting sideways looks at Aignes even as he turns back to the work of removing said mug. "My suspicions are on R'hra," he admits. "Particularly because he cannot stop laughing about it." All said as if the bronzerider wasn't right there to hear it.

R'hra practically beams when Kez again accuses him, but since there is no proof there can be no trial. He looks over at Finn saying "Next thing you are going to do is try to attach an oven to your back so you can have fresh baked cookies at anytime." He looks back up to Ainges and slowly pushes out a chair for her to sit in saying "Might as well sit and wait.."

Finn nods in response to Kezresan, exhaling a relieved breath. "Good." Still, he scoots a bit closer to the table to watch the process. He does, however, grin at Kez calling R'hra out on the 'mugging'. "Right? Looking awfully suspicious there," he notes with a lopsided smile. Snorting at the mention of backpack ovens, he shakes his head. "Nah, easier to let the cooks handle it. Carrying an oven would be way to much work. And how would I get the cookies out?" He's just not that motivated.

Aignes is a bad liar, it's true. Not like that has stopped her from it ever. She'll carefully adjust that satchel to her lap as she takes the seat. Nobody needs to sit on the head of this Pin. She wrinkles her nose up at the idea of backpack ovens. "It'd be easier just to get cookies from the cooks in the morning. You have to leave space in the ovens for the cookies to cook, but can stack as many can fit in a box." Practicality, really. Portable cookie jars over portable cookie ovens. As for Kezresan's question, she sighs. "It really is nothing. I've already applied redwort. But somebody," there's a look over at R'hra, "said this close to hatching I should make sure any scratches get checked out."

"He can't carry an oven on his back," decides Kezresan, speaking rather practically. "It's far too big, it would have no heat source or, if it did, it would burn him. And how would he get the cookies into or out of it?" Really, the entire thing is completely impractical in the healer's mind. So Kez will just dab-dab away at that mug, supporting the weight of the ceramic as the adhesive loosens. "Uncurl your fingers when you can," he encourages, turning to toss the old swab to the table and acquire a new one. Another tip into the solution and he's tracking at skin once again. "You can always lodge a formal complaint," he notes. "About being assaulted in the living caverns. You're a candidate; you're supposed to be protected." Never mind the one doing the assaulting is apparently also one of those in charge of their well-being. Doesn't bode well for Weyr relations. "Scratches?" he questions, peering over at Aignes once more. "As soon as I am done with this," 'this' being Phineas' hand and the mug stuck to it, "I want to take a look."

R'hra nods with Kezresan and grins happily "That is true, if you feel you need to report it please do. There can be an inquiry and everything into all the actives of you and your fellow candidates because if one thing has happened then there is surely more instances of people not following all the rules." He sips his Klah clearly not really worried about either out come, because unlike other Weyrs Fort will punish ALL parties for rule breaking on any kind. "Jr Weyrwoman Kassala would be free this afternoon if you wish to do that." He grins over at Aignes saying "Have you thought to wear light gloves when holding him? At least till his talons dull or he learns not to scratch so much?"

Finn exhales a breath, slanting a glance at Kez's face as he carefully tries to uncurl his fingers. "That's as far as they go," he notes with a grimace. At the mention of a complaint, he laughs and shakes his head, resting his chin on the palm of the opposite hand. "Nah. You said it wouldn't damage my hand, so." Not a big deal. It's the scratches that gain his attention, a flicker of worry darting through his eyes. "Oh," he allows after a moment. "I guess they could get infected?" Glancing to R'hra his gaze slants back to Kez, expression curious. "You can do something about that, right?"

"Why do you think he's in the bag and not my shoulder?" Aignes has definitely thought about this. "But wearing gloves end sup with gloves having meat juice on them…" And she shudders. Who willingly puts blood on cloth? Not her. There's an eyebrow raised at R'hra's mention of complaints. "Do you really think he did that?" She points to Phin's still muggy hand, still a bit dubious that anyone in a position of authority might stoop to pulling pranks. And she's waiting her turn patiently, at least not going to squirm out of this healer visit.

R'hra would love to sit here and continue this but alas duty calls as his dragon informs him of work to be finished. Looking back to the others he grins as he excuses himself "You all have a good day of chores!" Because that is that candidate life.

"Are you threatening us?" The question is rather point-blank asked of the Assistant Weyrlingmaster at their table, a lofted eyebrow and a subtle frown etched across Kezresan's face. "Because that sounds an awful lot like if we lodge a complaint, that we'll be found guilty and punished for things we didn't do." And Kez? Not cool with that. Not cool with that at all. When R'hra leaves, Kez turns his eyes back to the task at hand, watching Phineas as he attempts to uncurl his fingers. "You should feel it loosening," he explains. "But don't rush it. I'll keep grasp of the mug, so just let it happen." The solvent is repeatedly applied to assist with the dissolving of that glue, little by little working further along to free Finn of the mug. "Yes." Even if the question was directed toward Phineas, Kezresan will go ahead and answer that he does believe R'hra is responsible. "And blood in scratches is no better," he notes. "You can also train him to behave a bit nicer…" for that little firelizard friend.

"Let it go," Finn murmurs as he unfurls his fingers from the mug. When they have gone as far as they can, he shakes his head and adds. "It's not a big deal." And right now, he just wants to avoid upset across the board. "We're all tired and stressed out." And he just doesn't want to put his energy into getting upset. The moment the mug is free, he exhales a relieved breath, flexing his fingers a few times before grabbing a cloth to scrub the excess glue and solvent off his hand. "Thank you," he notes to Kezresan with a lopsided smile. "Sorry to crash your lunch."

Aignes shrugs. "He had been behaving and then a… someone meowed and touched his tail." Surely it was just a really weird candidate and not a kitten. "He startled and fell." Casualties were had. She watches as R'hra leaves, contemplating. "I don't think a weyrlingmaster would prank a candidate but if any weyrlingmaster would…" She'll just imply the he would. "And there's no more blood. There was barely any blood." Practically nothing!

An indignant huff is Kezresan's response to that, but he doesn't push the argument further. He might frown rather persistently at that Klah mug, though. When it finally goes free there's a long sigh and a nod of his head. "Of course." He's a healer. It's kind of his job to unstick things from people. (A less glamorous aspect of the job to be sure, but a part of it nonetheless). The mug is deposited on the table, and he collects the swabs and solvent to trash or store as applicable. "Let me see," he declares, full attention now on Aignes and these scratches that are apparently nothing. He'll be the judge of that, thanks. "In the interest of honesty," he decides, glancing first at Phin and then Aignes, "I'd much rather be doing this," healing people, "than eating lunch." He's missed it! And the food will keep.

"Good," Finn notes as he pushes to his feet and gathers up the trash for Kezresan. He hasn't a healerly bone in his body, but he can do trash duty with the best of them. "Cause I'd have no clue what to do about scratches." Cept maybe rub dirt on them. Which, he KNOWS is not the right answer. Stepping away from the table to throw the swabs away, he grabs another pot of klah and a new mug before making his way down to the table. "You asked how long it was on my hand, would that matter," he asks curiously.

Now that attention is turned back on Aignes, she'll slowly produce the scratched hand for closer inspection. "It really is nothing. Not like haven't had scratched before." There definitely are scratches, but none of them do much more than scratching the surface. As for what to do with scratches, she has an answer. "Wash them, apply redwort. Numbweed and bandage if needed." At the mention of skipping lunch, she peers over at Kezresan and his riderly get up. "You should probably eat something." At some point.

"Only in terms of how irritated your skin might be," explains Kezresan. "The solvent would have worked just the same, but your palms are not meant to have adhesive and ceramic attached to them." His hand, palm up, is offered to Aignes in expectation that her own will be given over for inspection. Whether it's in his or not, he's peering critically at those scratches. But not more than a few seconds before he's agreeing with the assessment and nodding along with her prescription. "Keep them clean, apply numbweed if they start to hurt. Wear gloves if you're doing something messy. And I am eating," he notes, pointing out his pushed-aside plate of fruit and muffin-base (he already ate the top off of it). And now he can get back to eating it, since his skillz as a healer are no longer necessary.

Speaking of eating, Finn snags a sweetroll off the platter and shoves half of it in his mouth before going about the business of remaking his mug of klah. As per usual, it is more sweetner then klah, but that is to be expected. "We need to be more careful with Cookie," he murmurs quietly. "Make sure no one is spilling the beans about her being in the barracks." Cause R'hra definately knew about the kitten. Mind you, Finn has absolutely no guilt regarding that particular rule. If Firelizards are cool? Why not kittens? "Rub dirt on em," he notes with a wink to Aignes. Cause really? He kind loves getting the mortified looks from these two.

Aignes dutifully hands her hand over for inspection and takes it back once it's deemed 'nothing' like she initially declared. "Good. At least that's one more order I can say was done for the sake of being done." And her arms are now crossed as she sits back in her chair, not eating despite just encouraging other people to eat. "Did any of you get taken to the beasthold for 'practice' riding?" She totally throws in some finger quotes with that.

"I would advise against rubbing dirt in wounds." And while there is no mortified look, there's definitely a highly disapproving one for the potter. As for their sneaky little mascot? A scowl. It is more for the threat of assistant weyrlingmasters than the cute black and white bit of fluff hiding under cots and clawing the toes of unsuspecting candidates when they get up in the night, however. "She'll be fine. Even if someone does say something, what are they going to do? There are plenty of places to hide her if necessary." A slice of fruit picked up, but he pauses before eating it to eye Aignes. "Practice riding what? I already know how to ride a runner."

Phineas arches a brow as he glances at Aignes, his head giving a quick shake. "Not me?" Which given the fact that Finn is still uncertain about runners? Probably a good thing. Shoving the other half of a sweetroll into his mouth, he tilts his head mildly, pale brows furrowing mildly. "Is riding a runner anything like riding a dragon? I mean…" It just sounds like it would be dramatically different on so many levels.

"Apparently," Aignes doesn't snort, but she does roll her eyes a bit. "Riding a runner being practice for riding a dragon was the reason given. And it wasn't like I haven't ridden a runner before." Many turns before. And usually a pony instead of a runner, but who is counting? "Just convince them there was a spinner problem and she was the answer?"

"You've never ridden a dragon?" For whatever reason, this revelation is startling. "But no, it's not." Kez apparently disagrees. "A runner's gaits are completely different from that of a dragon." Never mind that a dragon can fly, and a runner cannot. "Perhaps you use the same muscle groups," he muses, "but the movement is entirely different. Not to mention the size." A bite of fruit, and he chews it quietly, thinking. "I do think learning to ride a runner is a very useful skill," he notes, slanting a glance at Phineas. "Or a mouse problem," comes on the heels of Aignes' solution for why the candidates have a kitten.

Phineas shudders at the mention of spinners, his face twisting up in a grimace of revulsion. "Uuugggh…" Snagging another sweetroll, he tears it in half and shoves the half into his mouth. Glancing at Kez, he blinks once before laughing. "Dragons yes, runners, no." At the last, he grimaces mildly, not particularly thrilled with the thought of runners. "Maybe." Someday. Who knows. "Mice would be easy to fake," he allows. "I'll just dip the toes of some of your socks in frosting and turn Ferb loose on them." Instant 'mouse' type nibbles.

Aignes tilts her head over at Kezresan. "We've all ridden dragons at least twice…" Since that fateful fishing adventure. "But yeah. Even the smallest of weyrling dragons are practically the size of runners, right?" She shrugs. "I didn't really want to argue with it since that seemed like a good way to end up mucking stables for a full sevenday." Phineas' last comment has her glaring. "You feed your firelizard frosting?" She shouldn't be surprised and yet she is

"Oh." Being embarrassed is not an emotion typically experienced by the healer, but there's a faintly awkward look to Kezresan as he bites at his slice of fruit. He's just going to concentrate on chewing for a moment there. And studying the fascinating shape of his plate. But he does nod his head a bit at the mention of faking a mice infestation. Only to frown a moment later as the words really sinks in. "I don't think…" but Aignes is already voicing his concerns, albeit in the form of a question. "It's probably not necessary. And if we do need to…" lie, "supply evidence, I am sure there are easier methods besides training your firelizard to chew fabric." Imagine if Ferb got a taste for cotton?! Holey robes.

"Hey, he feeds himself frosting!" Taking a swallow of klah, Finn shakes his head as he sets the mug down in favor of snagging another sweetroll. "Cookies, brownies, sweetrolls, but cupcake frosting? Ferb'll fight you for it. He eats meat, too," he promises. "He's fiiiiine." Ferb is a little roly poly, but he's fine. At the last, he slants a glance at Kez and notes. "I am not sucking frosting out of anyone's socks." Lets just get that straight right out the gate.

"Did the dragonhealers say he's fine?" All this talk about firelizards has Aignes opening up the satchel to check on Pin. He gives a sleepy yawn and she just scritches under his chin. And cue the shocked face at the mention of sucking frosting out of socks. "Socks should not be near frosting or mouths!" She shakes her head no, no, no. "Or just say we threw out the chewed on garments?"

And now Phineas gets that mortified look from Kezresan. "I was not suggesting that you suck socks." On that point he is going to be very adamant. "Simply that we could find another means of… distressing them. Like scissors." Scissors, not mouths! "Agreed," comes for Aignes' affirmation that socks? Not for eating (or frosting). "But why would we — why would you," a weaver! "throw out a garment simply because it had a few… holes?"

"Yes," Finn assures Aignes with a quick nod. "He's fine, a little chubby, but he's still a baby, so." It's all good. "I keep the cookies in a…" Kezresan's reaction has him immediately laughing, pale eyes crinkling twinkling. "I'd hope not. I mean, I'd do a lot for you guys, but I have to draw the line at sock sucking. Really Kez, you didn't think that whole suggestion through." Flashing a lopsided smile, his brows twitch as he shoves a half a roll into his mouth and leans back in his chair.

Aignes raises an eyebrow at Kez's questioning throwing out garments. "Just because you can patch most things, doesn't mean you always should! Where do you think scraps come from?" The cast off garments nobody cares to repair any more! "Also, this could all be worrying for nothing. It wasn't like R'hra was saying 'get rid of the cat'?" Nope, he was just gluing candidate's hands to mugs.

Kezresan does not want to think about socks, or sucking, or really, any part of that potentially volatile topic. NOPE. Chubby firelizards? Safer. "If the dragonhealers say it's alright…" then who is he to question Ferb's sweet tooth? "Very true," he agrees with Aignes. "But he did sound rather…" Threatening. But he's already said that. "And resources are finite. Unless the hole or the patch would be somewhere unsightly, why wouldn't you repair the garment?" And speaking of garments, "Have you finished your robe?"

Finn makes a face, blue eyes rolling up into his head at the mention of robes. "If you can call it that? It's kinda done? Well, as done as it is going to be," he corrects. "I'm pretty sure it will hold together, just not going to look fancy." And he's fine with that. "I did my best, suffice to say I have /no future/ as a weaver." And he's fine with that, too.

Aignes doesn't seem convinced about firelizard sweet teeth (or anybody's sweet teeth), but she shrugs and finishes giving Pin his head scratches and leaves him back to the dark and cozy satchel naps. "Depending on where the patch is, the extra seams can irritate the skin. Or if it's too big of an area that's damaged, you could end up spending nearly as much material trying to patch is a time or two when a whole new garment would be quicker. And everybody needs rags." She shrugs and squirms a bit at the mention of robes. "Uhhhh…. maybe? It should be done…" But she just hasn't been able to call it 'done'.

"If we're arguing that we have mice… how bit a hole would a mouse leave?" Truthfully, this is not an argument that needs to be waged. But Kez is Kez. Of robes, though? "Mine is done." Because it is white, and it is not going to fall off, and therefore… it is good enough. "It does not need to be fancy. I doubt anyone is going to be looking at the robes." Just the dragons. "As long as it doesn't fall off you should be fine." For Aignes, there's a somewhat surprised, "Really?" Huh. "I would have thought you'd be the first one finished," he admits. "What's still left to do?"

"Mouse sized," Finn notes entirely unhelpfully. But, really? Mouse sized. He does, however, laugh at the supposition that Aignes would be the first done. "I'd put marks on her sewing on the way to the sands," he admits. "Female /and/ a weaver? Tch, she's going to be working on it til it's perfect." Girls man, that's just what they do. "I'm more worried about running through snow in sandals. We have to wear sandals, right?"

Aignes straightens up slightly at the judgement of her robes, getting a squeak of protest from Pin. "I mean… it could be done." And probably is technically done, "But I added some embroidery, white embroidery," in case there was any doubt about that, "on the cuffs. And then the neckline and well…" She waves her hands helplessly. She got more than a little carried away. "I feel like once I say it's done, the eggs are going to hatch right then and there." So she's making the most complicated robes. And glaring a bit at Phineas at the idea that it's just what girls do. "The snow is practically all melted now." Feetsies should be safe enough until they get on the sands.

"Exactly my point." Mouse-sized. "Not big enough to toss out." Kez chews a bit more at his own meal, eyeing Aignes and Phineas and the discussion of robe completion. While the potter might have a point, the healer is wisely not going to voice his acknowledgement of it. Instead, there's a frown and a skeptical, "What cuffs? They don't have sleeves…" right? The robes are just sacks with holes for head and arms, right?! "The eggs will hatch whether you are done or not; you might as well be done /early/ rather than not finished," he points out. "You cannot bring a needle onto the sands." He's fairly positive. "I don't know," he admits, for sandals. "And maybe there's a tunnel at the back of the barracks? I don't like the idea of walking through the bowl in a robe." Exposed to the elements!

"Exactly my point." Mouse-sized. "Not big enough to toss out." Kez chews a bit more at his own meal, eyeing Aignes and Phineas and the discussion of robe completion. While the potter might have a point, the healer is wisely not going to voice his acknowledgement of it. Instead, there's a frown and a skeptical, "What cuffs? They don't have sleeves…" right? The robes are just sacks with holes for head and arms, right?! "The eggs will hatch whether you are done or not; you might as well be done /early/ rather than not finished," he points out. "You cannot bring a needle onto the sands." He's fairly positive. "I don't know," he admits, for sandals. "And maybe there's a tunnel at the back of the barracks? I don't like the idea of walking through the bowl in a robe." Exposed to the elements!

"Mine doesn't have sleeves," Finn admits. Course, if they had to have sleeves? He'd be doomed. Aignes' glare, however, is met with a lopsided smile. "I have all sisters, Aignes," Finn reminds. "I know how it is. AND, you are a weaver on top of it." It's just true facts, man. "I hope so," is added at the mention of a potential tunnel. "Cause melting snow means mud."

"Candidate robes don't have sleeves…" Kez is almost entirely positive of this, eyebrows furrowed as he attempts recollection on the hatchings he's seen. "Why would it have sleeves? It's going to be so hot out there… less fabric the better." Sweating. Super fun. "And his point is that you are a perfectionist, and perfectionists are never satisfied." He ought to know, seeing as he's one himself. At least with some things. Possibly not with robes. "Fair point," he agrees with Phin for the mud. "I doubt they want us out there looking like we've been rolling in the dirt."

"And I am certain your brothers would not be the least bit surprised to find out that your robe is still in progress," Finn assures. "I'm not saying it like it's a bad thing, just that I'm not surprised. It'll be beautiful and perfect." He has no doubt of that, at all. "Yeah, what he said," Finn adds with a quick nod of his head.

The only part about Aignes' robes that her brothers would be surprised by would be the fact that she's actually Standing. "If they weren't supposed to sleeves, they should call them candidates tunics instead! And besides, there's going to be so many people watching. Do you really want them seeing your armpits?" Sweaty, sweaty armpits. "And I'll be satisfied when it's done."

A bit of a scowl, and Kez wonders, "Just what do you think we're going to be doing out there? Standing with our arms above our heads? No one is going to care about my arm pits." A snort, and he mutters, "You won't be satisfied until it's done, and you won't be done until you're satisfied." Clearly, she's caught in a loop. And Kez can only scowl about it all. A little poking at the food on his plate but ultimately, he decides against picking up anything else to eat. "Are your families coming to the Hatching?" he wonders, a glance tossed between Finn and Aignes.

"You never know what might happen on the sands!" Aignes may have nightmares that involve flailing around wildly with arms possibly above her head. If that happens, she'll be ready! Until then, she'll just sit there with her arms crossed and arm pits definitely not exposed scandalously to the world. As for her whole loop, she nods. "Exactly." And she doesn't seem to upset with the whole endless loop. "My mother and older sister are. And maybe one of my brother's wives. Are your's?"

Phineas has no intention of flailing his arms for any reason. Barring, perhaps, spinners. >.> "My mother and sisters," he admits with a nod for Kezresan. "Trini and Khara, the twins, are very excited about it all. As for sleeves? I don't care one way, or another, personally. Mine does not have sleeves." Cause he'd have a breakdown trying to figure out how that mystery works.

Kezresan just gives Aignes the flat look of someone who is not at all convinced that flashing armpits is a thing that should be worried about. His nightmares? Probably not involving exposed skin. Possibly involving exposed bone. "Mine does not have sleeves either." Which could probably have been surmised from the debate about them in the first place. As for families? "It's just my mother. I don't have any siblings," that he knows of. "She'll come." How he feels about that? Well, it's clearly not warm and fuzzy, given he's scowling at his plate again.

See, if there is any exposed bone, at least Aignes sleeves will mean extra material in case bandages are needed! Always prepared. "Enjoy your candidate tunics…" The weaver grumbles. As for siblings, she smiles slightly. "You can borrow some of my siblings if you want." She's got more than enough to spare.

Phineas pushes to his feet, gathering up his dishes before flashing the pair a wink. "I have to get back to the laundry. They're probably already thinking I ditched." Raising his chin in a gesture of farewell, steps around the table and desposits the dishes in the bin. "I'll see you two later this evening," is called as he heads back to work.

"I've always wanted siblings," admits Kezresan, quiet enough that he might not be entirely certain on whether or not he wanted to say such a thing. But it's said, and he's not going to take it back even if he could. The discarded stem from a piece of fruit is twisted between his fingers. It's mention of the laundry (or rather, the connection with Phineas having to get back to it) that has Kez sitting up right quick. "Oh shit… I have to go." Because there is PROBABLY a pissed-off dragonrider waiting for him in the bowl. Oops. "Yes… see you later," he tosses, abandoning plate and mug and Aignes (sorry Aignes!) as he heads for the exit to the weyrbowl.

"I'm serious… I have siblings to spare," Aignes is probably only mostly joking. And then there was one. She waves to each of the other candidates as they leave and with a sigh, she'll take those abandoned plates and mug to their rightful recepticle. And eventually she'll grab some food before running back to wherever maintenance duty has her today.


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