Fort Weyr - Center Bowl
The wide center of the bowl is often bustling with activity as riders come and go. Off westward can be seen the entrances for the candidate barracks and the guest weyr, while to the east is a large opening that leads into the dragon infirmary. The bowl stretches off both to the north and to the south, where the sheer stone walls rise steeply to the sky.

Despite the humid weather, the centre bowl is teeming with activity with most weyfolk wanting to get their work done before the high-noon hour when the sun and heat will make work outdoors a touch more unbearable. It's certainly not as bad as some climates can be, but when most enjoy rather mild weather most of the Turn, days like this are few and far between and not common enough to adjust to. The dragons, however, adore it and almost every ledge large enough to sprawl comfortably on has one, two or even three or more stretched out to enjoy the hot sun. Velokraeth of course has selected himself a prime spot somewhere in the Weyr where he can sunbathe and observe the going ons below in comfort and in companionship. Which leaves Th'ero to wander the grounds below, for once mercifully dry of mud and water. He's dressed in the lightest fabric tunic that he owns, short sleeved and of a neutral hue but he still wears his riding pants and knee high boots. Needless to say, he's not entirely comfortable and his mood is touchy to judge by the scowl that has worked it's way onto his features. "So… tell me again why we're out here?" he mutters to the one walking along side him.

Kimmila nods towards the sky, and she even points to be helpful. "Roc has a delivery coming in that one of us needs to sign for." Preferably the Weyrleader, since Kimmila holds no actual rank. She's dressed in a loose tunic and trousers, hair braided and then wrapped into a bun as she shades her eyes and peers at the sky.

Having no ledge of her own in which to bask and watch the activity below, Typriaeth and her bright green hide is seen lumbering into the center bowl with Anique along side her. With plenty of work done already before the nooning hour, such as visualization lessons, more straps repairs and of course a light feeding within the pens, this pair finds themselves with some free time then. "No I don't need to go for a run as I've already ran this morning remember. Before dawn?" Anique converses out loud with Typriaeth , their path bringing them closer and closer upon Th'ero and Kimmila.

"That's the Weyrwoman's job," Th'ero all but growls to Kimmila as they walk along the edge of the centre bowl. "And if Dtirae isn't around, then give it to Jajenelja or Inri." The Weyrleader is definitely in a grouchy mood, eyes squinting against the glare of the sun over the bowl. "Any idea which Wingrider, then? You got the paperwork?" he goes on to grumble, only to turn his head as Typriaeth and Anique approach. It's hard to miss a bright green hide like that! "Morning, Anique! … Surely M'icha doesn't have you Weyrlings out on drills in this heat and humidity?" Th'ero calls to the pair, shading his eyes a bit. It may just be shy of the noon hour but already the air is hot, humid and still. Summer has definitely arrived in Fort and they find themselves in a rare heat wave. Most of the dragons not on duty are lounging in the sun, with weyrfolk of all ranks hurrying through their duties before high-noon comes in hopes to escape the worst of the heat.

Kimmila rolls her eyes a bit at Th'ero's irritation. "Jajenelja is in the thick of inventory - correctly this time - and Inri went to Healer Hall for some deliveries. I don't know where Dtirae is. So we're going to do it. And I don't know which wingrider, and yes I have the manifest right here." She eyes the Weyrleader for a moment before taking a steadying breath. "Drills have to be done in all kinds of weather," she murmurs, offering a wave to the Weyrling par.

Anique snaps out quick salutes towards both Th'ero and Kimmila as soon as the greeting is heard. It's been months since she's forgotten a salute! "No sir!" she replies with a crooked smile. "We find ourselves with some free time before drills after lunch. Typriaeth wished a walk to ahem…be admired properly." Anique's tone is a mixture of amusement and embarrassment as Typriaeth's normally green hide is indeed this warm day. The green's head is lowered and she's inspecting the ground closely it seems with long sweeps of her long neck. Finally finding a good spot she circles it once, twice before curling up with her wings tucked in close and her long tail wrapping around herself. A satisfied whuff of air escapes her.

Yhri wanders in from the living caverns, having just had a bit of an early lunch and taking a moment for some fresh air before she ducks back into the caverns for another stint in front of the terminal screens. Cikitsakath is sunning not too far from the caverns, waiting for his rider in a lazy sort of idle mode, yet his eyes are whirling alertly as they watch the commotion. Yhri is curious, but hangs back a bit, trying to seem casual without poking her nose into where she might not be welcome for a change.

Th'ero eyes Kimmila right back and reaches for the manifest she has in her hand. "So… two of our gold riders are out?" he scoffs. Somebody's jealous? "Yes, drills have to be done in all weather but I'd rather not have riders with heatstroke today cause they don't know the shardin' signs." Grumble. At least to Anique he manages a bare smile. "So it's been a busy morning then?" he drawls, only to blink. Walk to be admired? His hand lifts again to shade his eyes as he peers at Typriaeth when the green settles and then darts a look to Kimmila. Swift, brief but it's almost concerned. "Typriaeth normally does this?" Normal question to ask, right? Absorbed as he is in his mood, business and greeting Anique, he does not spy Yhri quite yet.

Kimmila glowers at Th'ero when he takes the manifest. "M'icha knows the sharding signs of heatstroke," she snaps quietly. Then her focus is on the green. "Is she proddy?" she asks. Why beat around the bush with it? She wants to know, eying that bright color with a frown.

Typriaeth lifts her head towards where Anique stands with the Weyrleader and his weyrmate. She croons a pleasant welcome towards them, her eyes whirling a contented green. "Does she…" Anique seems unsure just what Th'ero is asking but then Kimmila is there to put it quite planning. "No..oh!" Anique looks startled and perhaps a little confused as she hastily casts a look towards Typriaeth. "She..well she likes to be admired." which means she's not sure if Typriaeth's desire to talk a walk to ensure she's admired has any deeper meaning that it does. Flustered she shakes her head and blurts out. "So you're waiting for Roc riders?" yes, blatant subject change anyone? So far Yhri isn't seen but Typriaeth /does/ see the brown and she croons a soft greeting his way. « Hullo handsome brown! »

Cikitsakath raises his head, glancing toward the verdant Typriaeth with a look that can only be described as "intensely examining". He whuffs a breath in her direction, tongue testing the air as if he can determine something about her that way. « Well, aren't you a clever girl. I'm Cikitsakath. Perhaps we will run away together. It will be amazing. » Yhri meanwhile has made her way over with her mug to the gathering, glancing at the Weyrling, then the Weyrleader, and then the other Roc rider. "Why are we waiting for Roc riders?" she asks.

"Kimmila!" Th'ero hisses at his weyrmate, giving her a sharp look. Must she be so blunt? Shaking out the manifest, the Weyrleader is about to scan it when Anique answers. Eyeing the started weyrling, the Weyrleader sighs. "Don't fret, Anique. Typriaeth has always been naturally bright and there is no fault if she chooses to be admired like that. It's a trait of hers, isn't it?" he drawls in a more comforting tone. Let's not freak out the Weyrlings? And is that an echo? Th'ero slides his gaze to Yhri then and straightening a bit he gives the brownrider a slight nod of his head in greeting. "Morning. And we're waiting on one Roc Wingrider. Delivery, apparently." He side glances to Kimmila with a smirk. Right? Glancing down at the manifest, he finally spots the name and almost groans out loud. "V'drez and blue Zevusanth." he mutters. Wonderful. "In from Weavercraft."

Anique's normally tanned skin is looking a bit pale though with Th'ero's reassurances she relaxes a bit. "Yes, that's how she's like indeed." a pause and then. "I mean, she couldn't be proddy /now/ could she? She's a bit more talkative than usual but really she's always showing off." Though Anique does cast sidelong looks towards Typriaeth who's evidently completely focused upon Cikitsakath now. « Of course I am clever. I am Typriaeth and I am the most clever Weyrling within my group. Why should we run away together when it would be much more prudent to fly? »

Yes. Yes, she must be so blunt. Kimmila arches a brow at her weyrmate and then smirks. He started it. "Didn't mean to frighten you, Anique. I'm sure she's fine." Right.

"Aha," Yhri's expression is one of enlightenment as Th'ero informs her of who they are waiting for. "Can't say I've seen 'im, sorry." Her expression mutates into an apologetic one. "Been camped out in the caverns all day working on the computers." Not that she minds, it's just a fact. "Morning," she offers the greenrider, not recalling the name offhand, unusual for her. Cikitsakath's expression turns something akin to coy. « Walk, run, fly, all perfectly valid forms of locomotion my dear. Why, we could even /between/ someplace! »

How did he start this? Th'ero stares at Kimmila for a little longer before turning his attention back to Anique. "I don't think it's quite time yet for her to be mature enough to rise," he tells her and while his smile is reassuring, his tone betrays the tiniest bit of doubt. "Some dragons are just chattier than others and can vary from day to day. I'm sure all is fine." After all, Velokraeth isn't here and trying to woo Typriaeth. The Weyrleader will begin to worry when the pale bronze starts to sniff around to close too the bright green. That alone keeps the man calm. "No? Shards. He should have been back by now, given the time on the manifest…" Th'ero spares a quick glance to Yhri and then down to the papers in his hands, only to pass them to Kimmila. Here, you double check. "Computers…?" That has his interest, though from his heavy frown it's hard to say as he gives the brownrider another close look. "You're a tech crafter?"

Kimmila grimaces a bit at the mention of computers, but she offers Yhri a faint smile just the same, and a head nod of greeting as she studies the manifest. "He's late," she confirms with a sigh, folding the hide and tucking it into her pocket.

Kimmila grimaces a bit at the mention of computers, but she offers Yhri a faint smile just the same, and a head nod of greeting as she studies the manifest. "He's late," she confirms with a sigh, folding the hide and tucking it into her pocket.'.

Anique relaxes a bit more with a small exhale of breath. "Good…right." she mutters. The talk of computers draws a flicker of interest from the Weyrling as she grins pleasantly to Yhri. "WEyrling Anique." a name is offered.

With her own look of coyness about her Typriaeth sends waves of thoughts crashing towards the brown. « We could indeed as I have been very successful within my training between! »

Yhri grins a bit, gesturing to her Journeyman Techcrafter knot on the other shoulder. "Born and bred, practically." She chuckles. "That's why I've been absent, they accosted me down to Landing to help there and kept finding reasons for me to stick around." Her eyes rolls a bit. "I'm just glad to be back." She peers up at the Weyrleader, quite short and all. "I give lessons," she offers. Cikitsakath returns with thoughts of deep blue and bright copper, a slight wheezing sound almost echoing in the background. « Well, allons-y then! » he suggests with a twinkle, stirring up and stretching, a great big yawn stretching his jaw wide with a loud groan of satisfaction.

"Late?" Th'ero mutters and his temper returns for a moment as he scowls at the manifests, now folded and tucked into Kimmila's pocket. "No Roc Wingrider is ever late." he adds under his breath. To Yhri, he quirks a brow. "Landing? Well, we're happy to have you back then…" Uh. There's an awkward pause while Th'ero scrambles to prod a sun-groggy Velokraeth for a name and the bronze finally gives it after much sarcastic drawling. "Yhri." At the offer, he shakes his head and grimaces with both hands up in an almost warding gesture. "Oh no. No. You don't want me by technology and I've no time to learn more than what I already know." Which is pitiful and sad. Saving them all a bit of awkwardness, above in the sky a blue erupts from Between with a sweet carolling call as he begins a slow descent. Landing heavily, he is laden almost to the maximum of his carrying weight with cargo and his rider is quick to dismount and saunter over. Helmet stripped, he waves cheerily to the group while snapping of a salute that is almost a bit too casual. "Morning, Sir! Morning ladies." Wink. "What's this? A welcoming party for little 'ol me?" V'drez flicks his hand towards his chest as if feigning surprise and then laughs high and almost giggling. Totally unaware that he's 'late'. In fact, he is behaving entirely oblivious!

Kimmila just shrugs at Th'ero. What else can she do? Glancing at Yhri, the bluerider chuckles softly. "Well so long as someone knows what they're doing with those computers down there." Clearly she and Th'ero aren't those people. The conversation is shifted when V'drez arrives, and Kimmila straigtens with a frown. "You're late, wingrider," she says, returning the salute with a formal flick of her fingers. The wink? Not appreciated. "Here," she says, extending the manifest for him to sign. "This is what you're carrying, right?"

"Oh, I'm glad to be back!" Yhri claims passionately. "I like the beach and seeing my family and all, but I'll admit I'd gotten used to the cold up here!" She glances around and up at the sky, as if realizing the irony of that statement. "Okay, the /winters/," she amends, pulling her curls away from her face and shoulders. At Th'ero's declaration her eyes sparkle. "But, if you would take the time to learn it you would save so much time in the future. Maybe even enough to give you a breather!" Being a Weyrleader is tough, she knows. Not personally, of course, but through observation. "At least consider a delegate to learn it for you. It'll make your reports much faster." Can't say she isn't trying, right?

V'drez scoffs, giving Kimmila an indignant look which is rather daring (or stupid) of him given that the Weyrleader is right there to witness his behaviour. "I'm never late!" he laughs, flipping a hand. Oh you! He takes the manifest from her hands, still chuckling and amused. Yet the moment his eyes scan, all mirth is wiped clean off his face and he just gapes. "I… this can't be right. You pulling a prank on me, hon? Cause if you are, this one isn't funny…" Pout. Why must she be so mean? "First off, times are wrong." Point. "Secondly, I did go to Weavercraft but uh… oh." He lifts the papers closer to stare at the writing, then darts a look to Zevusanth and then back to the trio of riders. Cue a nervous smile and an equally nervous chuckle. Uh oh.

Th'ero has his focus on Yhri for now, though he spares a quick look to V'drez's behaviour. Conversation is at hand however and he only smiles faint and crookedly at the brownrider. "Of all the things to miss, you missed the winter?" he drawls, only to clear his throat and shake his head again. "I've tried, though I thank you for your suggestions. Technology and I just do not mix. I've never had the patience or understanding for it, so I leave it up to those who do have the passion for it." She can try, but if there's one thing the Weyrleader is is stubborn!

Kimmila smirks, but she is Not Amused at V'drez' attitude or his nervous chuckle. "What," she says, more order than question as she looks at the hide, then the rider, and then the dragon. "And don't call me hon." That is flatly stated. Glancing at Th'ero, she gives him a little nudge. Hey. Your attention is needed over here, Weyrleader sir.

Yhri chuckles. "Well, and the snow. I know, I know, it's crazy, but we don't get snow at Landing!" A grin creeps across her features. "Of course I missed all the people here also, but after a while you get /really/ sick of the heat all the time." To be fair she's in a fairly negligible outfit herself, short trous, sleeveless shirt and sandals. "I get that technology can be difficult to grasp at first, but it really is rewarding if you can. Like I said, maybe you could delegate someone for that." Hopefully that won't be taken as some sort of volunteering on Yhri's part. The newly arrived bluerider gets a bit of her attention, brow quirking. "I think I missed something here."

V'drez pouts again when Kimmila rebukes him for his pet names and turns to Yhri with the manifests still in hand and waving them slightly in his incredulousness over the situation. "Just missing a cruel joke, is what!" the bluerider states. He hasn't completely blown Kimmila off and pointing the now rolled manifests at her and then to Zevusanth, V'drez explains. "These papers say we were to pick up entirely different cargo! That is not what I have on Zevusanth right now."

Th'ero can't help but chuckle at Yhri. "Seeing as I was born and raised on the western isles, I know heat. Yet it still hasn't made me ever miss winter! To each their own though." As for the talk on technology, that may be a subject to be broached again at a later date as the Weyrleader is being nudged by Kimmila and his attention drifts. What? Listening to the exchange between V'drez, Kimmila and Yhri, Th'ero now scowls angrily. "Did they question you at all at the Weavercraft, V'drez?" The transport rider seems to fidget, not meeting any of the other riders eyes now. That'd be a yes?

Kimmila rolls her eyes and reaches out to try and snatch the manifest back, giving Yhri a pained look. "What /do/ you have?" she demands. "What were you working from, if not the copy of this? These are done in triplicate, are they not? One for the original order, one for the transport rider, and one for the weyr!"

"Oh." Yhri's features express a mixture of concern and chagrin. "That's… unpleasant." She sighs. "See, if people would just use computers to manage their inventories and shipments, this would happen far less!" she laments and extols the virtues of her craft all at once. Turning back to Th'ero she offers a more welcoming grin. "Well, I was born and raised in Landing, but after a few turns at Fort I'm rather fond of having four seasons and not just two." Hot and hotter. Her attention is again diverted back to the poor bluerider as he gets the brunt of the Weyrleader's ire. Oooh, this is going to get interesting.

"Answer us, V'drez!" Th'ero barks in a firm and commanding tone. Last warning! The Weyrleader stands to his full height, arms held stiff at his side as he stares down the bluerider, giving Kimmila and Yhri only furtive glances. Poor V'drez looks ready to simply crawl into the nearest hole and die in it. Even Zevusanth looks chagrined and embarrassed. "We do have a copy!" he suddenly quips, brightening and hopeful and all but tossing the one he had back at Kimmila with a smug little smirk as he pulls out his copy from his jacket and promptly passes it to her with a little huff. "See for yourself, hon— Wingrider, ma'am. Sir. You'll see that mine says clearly to pick up an order for several yards… a lot of yards of fabric. Black." Cough. "And we do use the computers!" V'drez goes on to add as he rolls his eyes to Yhri, giving her the once over. "Never, ever had an issue! Gr'ant would have a, uh… what's the word… digital? Digital copy! Yeah. That and a written copy too. N'hon changed things a bit though." Nose wrinkle and a grimace. "So you can vouch for the reliability of the computers, right?" This is said to Yhri, as V'drez all but throws her under the proverbial bus.

Kimmila glances at Yhri with a little frown, but now isn't the time to argue technology vs. tradition. Not with an error in their midst. "V'drez…" she says with a sigh as she looks at the copy he gives her. "This isn't the same as this." Both manifests are shaken. "I don't know where /this/ came from," the one for 5,000 yards of fabric, "but that isn't the same as /this/," the one with a request for a loom. "We need that loom!"
Yhri quirks an eyebrow as she peers up at the bluerider. "Uh-huh," she intones, a slow drawl in her voice suggesting that she isn't sure whether or not she should believe the rider or not. "Computers don't make mistakes unless the data input was inaccurate. That's still a human mistake, though. The machine can only work with the input it's given." Not quite the resounding support V'drez was probably hoping for. "If it'll help, Cikitsakath and I would be happy to go and get that loom." The brown saunters over, eyes bright. "We're always game for an adventure anyway."

V'drez just stares rather dumbfounded at Yhri as he attempts to wrap his head around her explanation. "Yeah but…" he begins to protest, only to level Kimmila with a look. "Why are you blaming me?" he exclaims, tossing his hands up in the air as he blows out his cheeks in frustration. Ugh! "You saw my manifest! That's the ones WE had! I swear it! Zevusanth and I never make such shoddy mistakes! It's got to be an error on your end." He states boldly, cheeks flushed. Zevusanth bugles from where he rests, cargo still strapped in and his whirling eyes flickering with yellow of concern at his rider's mood. V'drez eyes Yhri again and the bluerider puffs up a bit, huffing. "We're gonna have to go back anyways if this fabric isn't what's needed!" Th'ero steps in then, "V'drez. Remember where you stand." he warns and the bluerider backs down though not without a lingering look on the brownrider. Don't be stealing his work! The Weyrleader is scowling and mouth drawn in a grim line. "Perhaps," he agrees with Yhri. "But computers can fail. All technology can. Right now it does us nothing to point fingers. An error was made and it needs to be fixed. Now."

Kimmila shakes her head firmly. "Let's argue the benefits of technology /later/, shall we? Right now," she says, fixing V'drez with a /look/, "you need to get back to the Hall and get /this/," she says, pushing the right manifest at him. "I don't know where /that/ one came from. Go fix it."
Yhri shrugs. "Maybe this is just me, but if the cargo changed abruptly, why did no one bother double checking with the Weyr before delivery? I mean, it's not like it would have been hard to /ask/ since you have a dragon and all." Just Yhri being a bit observational, don't mind her. "Technology is only as good as the people who built it," she notes again, looking at the bluerider and almost daring him to challenge her on this expert subject. She doesn't pursue it any further as the Weyrleader expresses his opinion and she nods agreement, demuring. "Perhaps I should take a look at their computer?" she offers.

Th'ero's eyes drift to Yhri for her observational comment and promptly murmurs in a low spoken voice. "There's been a recent change in leadership with Roc. Could have been a misunderstanding somewhere." That brings a sharp snort from V'drez, but one sharp look from the Weyrleader has the bluerider biting his tongue though. Snatching the manifests from Kimmila when she pushes them on him, the bluerider snaps and hisses irritably at her. "Don't take my orders from you, ma'am." And he pointedly jerks his chin at her shoulder. Th'ero misses that little exchange, as he's considering Yhri's offer. There will be no challenge from him! "If you think it will yield anything useful, then you've my permission. Best speak to Wingleader N'hon first so he's aware that you will be looking in on the computer in Roc's Wing lounge." he tells her, only to fix V'drez with a narrowed look. "And you are going to go back to Weavercraft Hall and sort this out! Take both manifests. If there's issues, you're to report them!"

Kimmila barks a rather harsh sounding laugh at V'drez. "Well you /should/," she says, her voice dropping to a low, murmured /calm/. Then she steps back a bit, letting Th'ero confirm her orders. See? SEE V'drez? Told you soooo. The bluerider smirks, and then looks past Th'ero to Yhri with a nod. "Seems to be a miscommuncation somewhere. Not something fixed by a computer. Human error…"

"It certainly won't hurt. I suspect it's been a while since it was looked at anyway, since I haven't gotten to it yet." Yhri glances toward the bluerider and shakes her head, as if to say 'boy, do I feel sorry for you'. "And don't worry, I'll let N'hon know. In fact, I think Cikitsakath already has…" She glances at the brown with a wry smirk, very used to his tendency to anticipate her needs. "Miscommunication happens, but I'm always happy to rule out…glitches." She glances at the bluerider, frowning a bit. "Human or otherwise."

V'drez just glares at Kimmila and may have flipped a rather rude gesture to the bluerider if the Weyrleader wasn't right there and watching him so closely. Instead he simply sniffs and scrapes whatever remains of his pride and ego and storms off. Though he at least remembers to mutter a hasty, "Yes, Sir!" to Th'ero before turning his back on all three. Stomp stomp stomp! Up he climbs Zevusanth's straps and once buckled in and readied, the pair take wing and vanish Between once high enough in the sky. "Glitches. Apt way of describing this mess," Th'ero murmurs as he lowers his eyes to glance to Yhri, having watched as V'drez took his leave. Exhaling heavily, he grimaces. "And I'll say this lies more on the human, but I'd like to rule out a computer failure. Wingleader N'hon has no objections then?" Esimath will confirm through Cikitsakath that the brownrider has the clearance to proceed when ready. Th'ero however is taking a step back, closer to Kimmila's side. "Hate to have to drop more work on your shoulders, Yhri. Or… for you to have witnessed that."

Kimmila smirks when V'drez storms off in such a snit, and then she glances to Th'ero, and then to Yhri. "Thank you, Yhri. We'd appreciate it." A glance skyward and then back to Th'ero. "I need to go check something myself, if you'll excuse me."

Yhri nods. "Yeah, no objections from N'hon," she confirms. "And don't worry about it, Th'ero. It's my job, seriously. I'm the most senior Techcrafter you have stationed here, plus software is my specialty. Might as well put me to good use!" She offers him a sympathetic smile. "Just let me know if you'd like me to give him something to think about." She jerks her chin toward the hastily departing bluerider, her words implying some sort of offered threat, just in case the Weyrleader would feel better if there were some disciplinary action to happen. "You're welcome, of course, Kimmila. I'm just glad my skills are useful even after my Impression." She throws Cikitsakath a loving glance.

Th'ero will turn his head to watch as Kimmila excuses herself as well, lifting one brow up in a questioning manner before he's focusing back on Yhri. "I won't worry about it then, though I am glad we have someone qualified to look into the matter!" he says in an honest tone. And it won't be him muddling around with the computers! The Weyrleader shakes his head, "No need. V'drez is a good rider though today does not seem to paint him in such a light. No rider likes to fail at their job…" Not that that excuses the bluerider and Th'ero knows this. Shading his eyes again (or he's rubbing at his temples!) he mutters, "I need to also excuse myself. Wingleader N'hon will no doubt meet you at the lounge. Quickest way would be through the living caverns and up the stairs through the upper halls." At least he gives (vague) directions? Dipping his head in a farewell nod, the Weyrleader begins to step away. "Clear skies, Yhri and best of luck. Our thanks again!" And with that he is off, brisk steps taking him towards the southern bowl where Velokraeth will meet with him and the pair are seen flying off towards Fort's forests and the mountain range in the distance.