Fort Weyr - Game Room
A small, cozy cavern, the air is almost constantly filled with numerous sounds; people chattering, firelizards chirping, dice on wood, and the dull clink of marks. Around the room, casually set tables are intersperced with groups of cushioned chairs. Two guards remain posted by the entrance, watching the cavern with careful eyes. Numerous games can be found here, including card games and board games, and several hangings mark entrances into other, more private game areas.
Voices in discussion: "Told you." "You did /not/!" "What, you mean to say he's /not/?" "Of course he isn't!" "X'an, what do you say?" X'an's voice: "I am saying /nothing/ on the matter." "SEE?!?" "See what?" "Oh shut up, you're missing the point!" "AS far as /I'm concerned/ you're not /making/ any point!"
There has been a game of dragonpoker. Someone won a pot. A rather big pot. X'an played sensible and got out whilst he was considerably ahead….
"I still say he's cheating." "Look, how can I be cheating when I've got no sleeves? Where am I supposed to have kept the cards you moron? My arse?" "I dunno, you're taking lessons in sleight of hand ain't you?" "No, I'm taking lessons in piano!"
And Z'ran, sauntering in slowly. Clad as always in black, he's at the back of a group, and halts just inside the doorway to lean against the wall beside one of the guards. He joins the man in watching X'an's group — his openly entertained grin rather in contrast to the other man's more stony expression. And as for Z'ran? Oh, he has sleeves.
Talmar is not entirely sure why he's here, to be honest. He seems to have some kind of a note, or parcel, or something. He frowns at it, then heads over to the table. "Um, excuse me, sir." he says to one of the fine gentlemen at the poker table, "Um, I think I was supposed to deliver this here, sir." Running errands, hooray.
Errands are always fun. Poor Talmar, he gets a group-ful of consternated (and possibly constipated, judging by the one face belonging to the worst loser) faces. Lookee there, whole tableful of stern looks! "Thankyou, candidate…" X'an at least is gracious and probably can afford to be: it looks as if he made about five marks here! And the man accused of cheating looks very red faced, hoarding his well… erm… won earnings covetously.
Looks are exchanged, noone's particularly inclined to actually look at the parcel, just incase it's a practical joke. They have been known to happen… "Aah, Jenik, you have mail…" X'an notes, reading the parcel's label.
Z'ran continues his observations for several long moments — always survey a room before committing oneself — and finally pushes away from the wall, punching his new friend the guard on the arm as though they've just completed a long and friendly conversation. Wherever he's eventually intending on ending up, his path takes him via Talmar. There's a nod of greeting for X'an, and one hand claps onto the candidate's shoulder. "Ah, clay boy."
Talmar smiles at X'an, happily. "Ah, thanks, sir." he says, then turns to Jenik. "Um, sir, I have to give you this, sir." he says, frowning at the reluctance of the poker players to accept the parcel. Z'ran's hand on his shoulder causes the young candidate to jump, seems he's a touch on edge today. "Oh, hello sir." he says with relief, as he sees Z'ran there. "I thought you were my brother for a moment." he admits, "He's mad at me." Hmm, I wonder why?
The mind simply boggles as to what could possibly be up with Talmar's brother. Oh sweet obliviousness, you are a small mercy on the mind. X'an arches his eyebrows up a little, easing back and reaching for a drink set at the edge of his spot; cider, nonalcoholic. "Oh get on with it man, if anyone's going to be pranked around here, it's me. You /always/ get antsy around candidate times." "That's cos I ended up wit' a bad smell in my house I couldn't get rid of." "Fish under your floorboards, yes. I recall." Watching Z'ran, he looks inquiring somewhat.
"Easy now, we've talked about names," Z'ran cautions Talmar quietly, but there's a squeeze for the boy's shoulder to remove any sting. The greenrider has one eye on the parcel — he hasn't weather too many turns yet, but some lessons only need to be learned once — but he's speaking to Talmar, his free hand up in a failed attempt to conceal his grin. "Is he now? That's no good. Harmonious family relationships make life that much easier, you ask the Weyrleader." If he's after X'an in particular, he's got nothing but an innocent grin for the man thus far.
Talmar steps towards the man protesting the most, assuming that this must be Jenik. "/Sir/," he begins more firmly, "I have to give you this, sir." he places the parcel on the table. "Sorry, Z'ran, sir." Talmar says in response to the bit about names. But Z'ran started it, by calling him 'clay boy'. "My sister and I…" he glances to X'an, then shrugs. "…he's mad at both of us."
Jenik reluctantly takes the package, nudged and elbowed by his tablemates to open it here, if he's that much of a coward. Watch as the humiliation comes to his face on finding it's a carepackage of soap and home made bisquits from his mother in Ruatha. The guard facepalms, for that's Jenik's job and groans under the weight of laughter. "Thankyou… here." X'an calls over to Talmar, flipping him a single sixteenth mark as a tip for courteous service, giving Z'ran a /look/ that says volumes about familial happiness and unity! "Don't get me started there… you have any idea what it's like, having to give orders to your big brother? Sometimes it's a nightmare…"
Z'ran keeps that diplomat's face of his more or less straight, although the bland expression with which he regards Jenik is perhaps worse than the outright laughter of his tablemates. It makes a matching set with the innocent smile he offers his 'leader, clapping Talmar on the shoulder once more before releasing him in favour of raiding a passing tray of drinks. "Oh, I don't know, sir. My big brother let me put the very words in his mouth. He got the looks in the family, and thus the leading roles. Young Talmar here," — turns out he does know the candidate's name — "can bring tears to the eyes of his brother. You should take advice." And this delivered, he pauses to examine his haul. Ah, beer.
Talmar frowns at Jenik, but nods politely, before turning to X'an. "Thankyou for the marks, sir." he says, with a grin. No doubt he'll spend it on more of those paints he's using on his pottery. "I think it'd be nice to give my big brother orders." he says, in a day-dream kind of tone. Tal looks to Z'ran suddenly at the tears comment. "I thought, um, we weren't supposed to talk about that, Z'ran?" he says, uncertainly.
X'an's brows /inch/ upward, at the innocent smile displayed all over Z'ran's face /and/ at the oh-so-innocent comment. He, for his part, is being courteous of poor Jenik, ignoring his plight but at least not laughing at it. His pale gaze travels between candidate and weyrsecond. "Indeed… advice on handling the big brother and bringing him to tears? Now I -know- there's a story there somewhere, which is likely to be the kind of story I'd sigh at… but please. Elucidate me." - that face is one of those that really shouldn't be argued with too.
"By which he means," Z'ran informs Talmar, leaning down to his ear, "that he wants to hear how you managed it." Straightening up and disposing of at least half the beer in one long pull, he reaches up to wipe the back of his mouth with one hand before speaking on. "Listening, sir, please keep uppermost in your mind that young Talmar was acting in defense of his little sister. No matter how aggravating, we are obliged to defend them. And should that fail, I've got news for you that'll restore your smile, albeit at my expense."
Talmar frowns slightly. Z'ran said not to talk about it, but now X'an is saying to talk about it… X'an does outrank Z'ran, but Tal doesn't want to get into trouble. At the least, it'd be fairly hypocritical given what he'd been saying to Sarcon about not getting into trouble. Z'ran's words make him nod, and he speaks. "Well, sir, my brother Tamal, he's fifteen. And my sister, Latora, she's only seven." Tal begins, nodding. "Tamal likes to tease Latora, and make her cry…" he pauses here.
X'an gives Z'ran 'The Look' — and for those that don't know it, it's a diamond hard, austere look as famed by the website picture of him: Icy cold, I know you're doing something and I am not a man to be messed with! However, it lasts only a moment for all its smouldering intensity, slipping to a softened edge on hearing the details. "I wouldn't have put it past this rascal.." a nod at Z'ran "..to get people accidentally in trouble, but… it sounds as if you're standing up to a bully. That's commendable, as long as you are not actually fighting…."
"Sir, you're going to undermine my authority if you're not careful," Z'ran cautions piously, pausing for another swig of the beer. "I am nothing but a positive influence on our impressionable young potter, who looks to me for guidance in moments of trial. Don't you, clay boy?" The question is almost affectionate, and certainly delivered with a grin. A pause, then. "You didn't actually hurt him, did you? That wasn't quite what I was suggesting."
Talmar nods slowly, and continues. "Well, I got the idea… Well, that's not important." he shrugs, then says, "To help my sister, Latora, make Tamal cry." another long pause. "Um, no we didn't hurt him. Directly." he says, frowning. "I mean, we got him in front of his friends, so they might have hurt him. After we'd left." Get to it already, what did he /do/ to his brother?!
X'an brings his cider to his lips, taking a long, slow drink, studying both greenrider and candidate with an unblinking regard, over the top of the stein. He's also got out of the habit of lifting a pinky, which we should ALL be glad of. There'll be an end to this tale yet!…
Z'ran is too professional to look concerned — after all, he learned from a man with a decent poker face — but he's eyeing Talmar thoughtfully. Polishing off the last of the beer, he turns the mug over in one hand as he eyes the boy in front of him, certainly speculative now. "Remember, story in which you can laugh at me coming up next, if necessary," he murmurs to X'an, the corners of his mouth tugged to a grin.
Talmar takes a deep breath, then sighs. "Well, I was just coming back from doing some work with clay, so I had my two buckets." One of clay, one of water. "The water one gets pretty muddy with clay by the end." he adds, shrugging. "So, anyway. I had these buckets, and I found my sister, crying. And my brother, laughing with his friends." a grimace, and then he continues. "So, I give the bucket of muddy water to my sister, and go distract my brother and his friends." a pause, "Latora threw the bucket of water at Tamal's pants, from behind." he can't help it, he snickers at the memory.
X'an blinks once, twice, three times in rapid succession, his arched brows (he plucks them, it's vanity) inching upward, then……. laughs! "Well done that candidate!" he declares, setting his stein down and applauding. "Humiliation is usually the best way to make a point that'll be remembered…"
And a nod from Z'ran. Train him myself, so I did. The greenrider's quirk of a smile transforms into an open grin, and Talmar gets another clap on the shoulder fit to drive him down into the ground. "Nice work, you. Demonstrates a creative approach to problem-solving."
Talmar grins at X'an's reaction, clearly relieved. "Well, if you say so, sir." he says, modestly. "I expected I'd get in trouble…" he frowns slightly, then snickers at Z'ran. "Well, it was a good idea, to make him cry." and so far, the idea is all his. Well, he hasn't said anything to the contrary.
X'an chuckles some more. "Well, I dare say that your brother will think twice about messing with your younger sister now, as well… no elder sibling likes to be humiliated by the little one. It's hardly as if you can really tell on them to nanny or mother and father…" A faint grimace follows that. Yes, a man that knows this all too well, it seems. "But on a different topic, the eggs should be hard enough to touch soon… Wiyaneth and Izelth have been crooning over them… muggins here had to check." he laughs at himself this time. "So, we'll take you out there soon, to get familiar with them all."
Z'ran jumps on board the change of topic with no small enthusiasm, locating another passing tray to dump his mug on. "Hard enough already? Time flies when you're," and here a pause, with a sympathetic grin for Talmar, "run off your feet taking care of every errand in the place. He knows them all, you know." This to X'an, although his nod indicates Talmar. "He's been making his own, just in case the real thing doesn't come off."
Talmar grins at X'an. "I can't wait!" Well, he can, because he'll have to. "I've been working on those clay eggs, but I just can't get a good enough look to paint them right." he says, frowning slightly. "Plus, I probably need more practice." he admits. Tal glances to Z'ran, and shrugs. "I guess I kind of have been spending a lot of time looking at the eggs. But they're real interesting eggs." he means that in a good way, of course.
X'an laughs. "Yes, I recall those days well, even now. Shards, I wanted to cut my own feet off some days and I was /taunted/… so badly. So very, very badly. At least some of it was in fun, but I really was the brunt of all the piss taking because of my holdbred mannerisms…" he shakes his head slowly from side to side with a nostalgic grin on his face, idly palming a two mark bit and rolling it end over end there. "There are times when etiquette training and the like don't pay off, particularly when faced with a rabble of easy going weyrfolk." Looking thoughtfully at the mark, then Talmar, he nods to Z'ran's words. "I vaguely recall something about the clay eggs, but I think I thought I was dreaming at the time… dozing up on the galleries. Had /such/ a crick in the neck. Do you have a favourite yet, young man?"
"And now you spend your time trying to drum your holdbred mannerisms into ill-bred gypsies, so that they can better woo the holders for you," Z'ran observes, the suspicion of laughter in his tone. "I enjoyed candidacy more. I'd never been in one place so long in all my life. I think the highlight was probably getting bawled out by the Headwoman for juggling her plates in the middle of the living cavern — which was unfair, because when she caught me I think I was on my hands, plates on the soles of my feet." He too opts for a nostalgic grin, before offering Talmar a wink. "So you've a way to go yet, before they call you a disaster. Which egg have you picked out?"
Talmar frowns slightly, and shrugs. "They're all good." he says, absently, trying to picture them in his mind or something. "I think, yeah. I like that one with cream and sunset and other colours." The Ancient Homeland Egg. "And that one that looks really old." Last Stand Egg. "And… Well, all of them." he really means it, too. "It's so hard to choose a favourite…"
X'an grins. "Yes, because /someone/ has to try and teach you some manners, don't they? Besides, you're a charmer Ze. At least when you turn it on, you could heat klah up with your smile…" eyes glinting, the weyrleader looks to his cider with a sigh and a smile. "Izelth's very proud… even if I wish he /wouldn't/ listen in on my ears…" smirk "…the last clutch had one egg that looked particularly like a bogie. It was all… globular and greenish."
Z'ran laughs, waving off the weyrleader's comment with one hand. "Who needs manners, then, if I've got all that, sir?" The title is cheeky at best, and the greenrider sidles onto ground more suited to his station with a grin. "Charming, I'm sure. Try not to be shocked, clay boy, if I tell you that I don't remember any of my favourites, bar the one — and Omi was in that. Back then, we thought feeling their baby minds was just amazing, even though we had barely anything to compare it with. Now I realise how many layers upon layers come later, but even then I liked her."
Talmar wrinkles his nose up at the description of the 'bogie' egg. "Ew." he says, simply. "The ones on the sands are nice. Much better than bogies and stuff." he says, with a nod. "Some are a bit strange, though… Lots of red, and dark colours." he frowns, then shrugs. "But they're all great, really." he finishes. "Manners are important." he says to Z'ran, frowning. And then he says, "I haven't heard much about touchings. What are they like?"
X'an smiles. "Yes, manners are important… and it's akin to …. well, nothing I can describe, but when you touch the eggs, you will touch upon the nascent mind of the dragon within. They can't… usually.. quite get their heads around what it is that they're experiencing when you touch their eggshells, but they do try and relate. Izelth had a love of making very loud noises when he was in the eggshell… Alorye tells me her own experience with her Garroth sounded sort of like… the distant chimes of bells. It's different for each egg."
Z'ran's hand comes up again to conceal the start of a smile. "Manners are important, quite right," he agrees. "So our esteemed 'leader tells me frequently. As for the eggs, they're all great, they've got dragons inside. They don't really know what you are, or even what they are — although I remember one, later on, being somehow aware that it had legs, and it hadn't known that a sevenday before. That was amazing to realise. I nearly lost track of which way my knees bent, when I went to walk away. They sort of want to pick through your mind, look for ways to understand things."
Talmar nods slowly, taking in all this information. "Ah, okay, I see." he says, thoughtfully. He frowns then, and looks to the exit. "I'd better get back to those errands, sirs." he says politely to both Weyrleader and Weyrsecond, before heading off to do his chores.
