Who Vossrik, Rulayn
What Vossrik and Rulayn do some chore-chatting.
When Spring-Summer, Turn 2711
Where Fort Weyr - Forgotten Storage Room

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Fort Weyr - Forgotten Storage Room
A stone archway, high above any person's head, is the first indication that this room is not your usual room. Behind the door, the cavern stretches out, and the floor is covered in small boxes, endless stacks of them. Inside the boxes are a multitude of small glass containers of various shapes and sizes, and apparently different uses, as well. Each one is carefully wrapped in soft wherhide and cushioned with dried leaves, and the boxes themselves are stacked in a way that it would take considerable effort to knock them over. A large coating of dust is evident on every surface, showing that this place hasn't seen a visitor in some time.


A dull *clank* announces the entrance of a person, and the muttered 'ow, crapsticks' identifies them as Vossrik. "Hey, uh, someone said they needed someone with some tools?" You think he'd have learned not to leave himself wide open like that. "I brought all my stuff?"

Surrounded by a pile of musty boxes and assorted crates, Rulayn is sitting to one side of the cavern with her hair in a mess and a befuddled expression upon her face. It seems she isn't expecting anyone either as Vossrik comes trundling in, her eyes widening as she looks up to the other Candidate's entrance. "O-Oh! Hey Vossy.. What're you doing here?" She clearly appears confused by his appearance and pauses, her hands clasped around one of the smaller, dust-coated boxes.

"Tools." Vossrik holds up his toolbox, offering a quick little grin. "Heard there was stuff in here what needed fixing and, well, I do that." Pizza? I didn't order any pizza! "Whatcha got there, Rul'? And man, you'd'a think this place'd be a little more, Idunno, and a little less full of every spinner web ever with all the time we spend down in here." Little clouds follow in his footsteps as he approaches, Pig-Pen styles, and another gets coughed up around his carrying case as he sets it on the ground. "Need a hand?"

Rulayn blinks again for a moment and quickly she realises something. "Oh! There's some broken.. things.." She makes a random shape with her hands, clearly unable to describe the 'thing' in question any better, and then looks back to the box. ".. Out in one of the lower caverns. I was told there was some tools in here we could use instead of having to call for a Crafter but.." She shrugs hopelessley and raps her knuckles against one of the small locked boxes, producing a hollow sound. ".. It seems like noone's been here for a while. And I guess you were summoned anyway." She turns to face Vossrik, sitting cross-legged on the cold floor and granting him a small smile. "How're you managing?"

With a clap, Vossrik smacks his palms together and rubs, looking around with furrowed brows and a twitchy nose. "I don't mind, it's kinda my thhHAAAACHHHHAHEEWWWW!" Crawlers flee, tunnelsnakes burrow into the ground, stalactites fall, etc. etc. as he lets out a gargantuan sneeze into the crook of his elbow. "Sheesh. Sorry 'bout that. I don't mind. At least it ain't mucking out stalls or nothin', and I know what I'm doin'. Kinda. Though I got noooo idea what you found there, but you're welcome to use any of my tools that you want, so long as you don't break 'em. Jeesh, though, how many rooms they got in this place with their own dang society of bugs and shit?"

Rulayn does one of those 'Holy crap are you okay' looks when Vossrik sneezes, leaning back slightly with a genuinely concerned expression for a few moments afterwards. "Er.. It's okay." She scratches her cheek, smearing dirt over her pale skin in the process. "I really don't know what tools I'm looking for though. Something to.. twist.. a thing?" She makes a motion as if holding a spanner, and then gives another hopeless shrug. "Half of these boxes are nailed shut or locked though. And judging from how old they are, I'm willing to bet they're filled with really ancient tools." She pushes one of the boxes towards Vossrik for him to look over.

Rulayn's box is given a cursory glance, then nod. "You think they mind if these get destroyed? I'll do my best, but some of 'em might need to be crowbarred to check out." Vossrik knuckles at one of his eyes absently as he grabs a small hammer, flips it around, and starts using the claw to pry at one of the nails. "Ya'd think they'd use screws so you could, Idunno, open these again. Oh, sheesh, I hope we don't find none of the stuff Thys found in that cave with the body and stuff. But I mean, lookit this place. Would you be shocked if there were like TEN severed heads in this thing?"

The idea of severed heads isn't too appealing, but Roo is clearly not worried about that propsect. "I doubt it.. It'd probably smell pretty bad in here, right?" She chuckles slightly, watching Vossrik work on prying open the lid of the box. She doesn't move to try her hand at opening another, but remains there watching the other Candidate work instead. "So.. Some of us went out on the Sands about a sevenday ago." Her tone become softer, quieter, and her lips compose themselves into a thin frown. Her eyes stay on the box, but it doesn't seem as if she's really looking at it.

"Oh yeah, Doktah said somethin' about it. I was in the bath. Y'know, enjoying the solitude." Vossrik pauses his prying to give Rulayn a broad wink and, apparently, a nail as it pops out of the box top and goes flying towards her. "Woops, sorry 'bout that. So how'd you like the egg touching? I heard it gets all in your brain and that someone passed out because it was all hot and shit, which is funny for Fort, y'know?" Another nail gets pried at, letting out a squealing protest at it's unkind treatment.

Rulayn doesn't dwell on the thought of the Smith in the bath (for once!) and instead has to narrowly duck her head as the nail narrowly misses her cheek. "Hey! Be careful!" She warns him with a frown, placing a hand against the side of her face as if it had struck her. Only when it seems safe again she lets her hand drop back into her lap. "It was.. Uncomfortable, mostly." The dragonhealer frowns, her gaze shifting from the box back to Vossrik at work. "It felt like.. I was exposed to these eggs. There was one that really made me feel sick though." She shakes her head. "Like, really dizzy too. I don't think it was the heat either."

*Pop!* This time, Vossrik manages to keep the nail between his hammer's claws and gently set it aside instead of letting it almost take out an eye. "Sorry, my hammer slipped. Exposed? Like mentally? And sick how?" He sticks the handle of his hammer into a loop on his belt and wriggles the top of the box back and forth experimentally. "Geez it sucks I missed all that 'cause I can't even imagine. I mean I know dragons talk to their riders and stuff, but I figured it'd just be… y'know. Words and stuff in your head, like when you're reading or something. But sick? Was it thinking evil stuff?"

"No, it was like.. It was there but it wasn't there? And it was just, jumping around in my head and it felt like I was going to hurl." Rulayn winces slightly. She can't recall the feeling entirely, thankfully, but it's still uncomfortable to remember. "And the others, well.. Two of them seemed pretty.. Curious, I guess? Like it felt they were after my secrets. One just.. Saw everything." And that last part of her sentence is accompanied by a slight blush. What could 'everything' possibly mean?

"Wiiiiild," Vossrik notes, giving Rulayn an appreciative and envious glance. Then, crouching, he turns back towards his efforts and starts peering into the gap he's managed to wiggle open from the box top. "The more I found out about how dragons do, the weirder it sounds, and I thought firelizards were a weird thing. OH, I almost forgot to tellya." Lowering his voice, the smith looks back and forth, then grins. "So Ibreily and I were doin' laundry and I found out about the shrine to Th'ero's, uh, ass. That isn't the strange part, though! One of the wings had clothes going through and somebody owns a pair of boxers with the word 'juicy' all embroidered across the ass-end. Ib' decided they *were* Th'ero's and took them."

Rulayn is still sitting here doing absolute jack, but as Vossrik tries to wriggle the lid off she tilts her head at him. "Maybe we can wedge it open?" She suggests. So helpful. As he continues to struggle though, she listens to his story of the fabled Shrine of Th'ero and she surpresses a small snigger. "She.. what?" She's seen the shrine during duties in the caverns, but never did she know what it was about - until now! "Really? 'Juicy'?" This time Rulayn laughs softly, her voice carrying and echoing throughout the empty room. ".. I can't believe that. They can't belong to the Weyrleader, surely." But what if they did?

There's a moment where Vossrik is holding up a finger and scrabbling through his toolbox, but he quickly finds a short pry-bar and tosses it from one hand to the other. "I really hope they don't mind if I break this thing. But yeah, she totally plans on puttin' 'em up on her wall or something like dude underwear isn't gross as you wouldn't believe." Apparently, candidacy has made Vossrik positively hennish in his social interactions, but hey, it's better than hiding 110 of the time. A creak and snap follow as he wedges the business end of his tool into the waiting box, having no graceful way to get that concept across in text without innuendo, and starts to give it a careful increase in pressure. "Me, I think we should let someone's firelizard keep watch on them in the laundry room, y'know, hang 'em on the wall and see who takes them. Riders are weird, man."

With most of the boxes so dusty and old, whatever their contents are must clearly not matter to anyone, or so Rulayn thought as she gave a shrug. "It was probably locked for good reason. Maybe there -is- something severed in there." She teases with a slight grin, leaning back and supporting herself with her hands. Blowing a loose strand of hair away from her eyes, the girl continues to watch Vossrik struggle with the box. "Well, she's the one who'll get in trouble for stealing." Rulayn shrugs. "Not all riders are weird though." She's quick to respond to that remark, exhaling loudly. "Some are really nice.. And who knows, you might be one soon too."

"Hey, I'm not gonna tell nobody in charge that she took those. It's way too funny." Vossrik's got PRIORITIES, man! "Ugh, what'd they seal this with? Watch, it's full of, Idunno, woodshavings for packing and nothing else. Or an entire stock of JUICY everything." The creakpop noises gain in volume and frequency as the pressure is increased. "Pff, Idunno about that. I'm still kinda baffled they grabbed ME from everyone, but it was probably 'cause I can carry heavy stuff or something. It's been nice, though. Y'know, making friends, learning new stuff, getting to hang out with dragons. Y'know I thought they'd smell weird or something but they smell kinda nice. And of COURSE you'd think some riders are neat. Isn't your sweetheart one?"

By now, Rulayn has picked up one of the discarded nails and is playing with it between her fingers. "You're a nice guy. The dragons probably see something in you. I dunno why they picked me either." The young woman continues to toy with the nail carefully until the sudden mention of K'vir causes her hand to slip. "Ow!" The sharp point pierces skin and suddenly there's blood. Quickly the girl sticks the digit between her lips and sucks on it. Nothing suggestive here, nope. "He's.. ow.. Not my sweetheart.." Rulayn murmurs around the finger in her mouth. ".. We're just friends." With benefits. "He's not interested in me like that."

There's a clatter as the prybar hits the floor and Vossrik's propelling himself to Rulayn's side. "You okay? Lemme see that." He squints, examining the droplet of blood before the finger goes in the girl's mouth. "Hey, careful, you really gotta be careful with old nails and stuff like that if they pierce the skin. This is gonna sound like overkill on account of it just being a prick," Giggity, "But we should get you to the infirmary to clean it out. Old boxes can have all sorts of weird stuff in them that can cause infections and whatnot and get you really really sick. Ah, crumbs, I usedta carry a little kit in my toolbox with some redwort and little jars of stuff, but I took it out to make room for my big hammer." Also giggity.

What a gentleman! Rulayn looks a little shocked though as Vossrik comes barrelling over to her side and after a few moments she takes her finger out of her mouth to show him. Luckily it's not a deep injury, but it's still bleeding quite a bit. "Is it that bad?" She winces from the stinging pain, looking from the wound back to Vossrik. She's no expert on -human- wounds! "Something like this wouldn't bother a dragon that much.." At least she didn't think so. She hadn't got that far with her training yet. She waits on the Smith's judgement, but frowns as the cut keeps on oozing. She pats herself down, looking for something before grimacing. "I don't have anything to wrap it up with, do you?"

"It's more the stuff that goes into the cut than the blood or cut," Vossrik notes, practically dragging Rulayn to the door. "Believe me, you do not want no blood poisoning or infection." He stops, shuffles around in his pocket, and brings out a surprisingly clean and folded handkerchief. "Here. Wrap this around it and kinda hold your hand up a lil so it doesn't bleed so much."

As Rulayn is hauled up and towards the exit, she blinks and tries to stammer in protest. "Is it really-.. Hey! You don't need to drag me there!" She takes a moment to scowl at him, although that expression quickly fades when the cloth is wrapped around her finger. Oh, well then. She does as instructed and keeps her hand elevated, following after Vossrik whether he's still latching onto her or not. As for the box? The contents, for now, will have to remain a mystery.


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