Fort Weyr - Lower Caverns

This volcanic bubble is smaller than the Living Cavern, but no less well crafted. The walls are smooth, with electric lights placed into niches that used to hold glowbaskets. Another hearth burns here, with a pot on always keeping water hot for making tea or cider. Worn but comfortable couches and chairs are arranged by the hearth around a few tables where game boards and a few packages of dragon poker cards are laying.

From this cavern you can get to many other places - the tunnels of Fort Weyr having been dug far back into the caldera where the Dragons make their home.

It's somewhere in that vague time between late afternoon and early evening. The time where you're not exactly sure which category it really falls into, and usually it happens to be a moot point anyhow. For a certain greenrider it appears to be reclassified as 'nap time', or at least was until right about now as he is beginning to stir. The arm chair R'lin is occupying really isn't mean for a grown man to curl up in it for a nap, and since when was it tucked away in the furthest corner of the lower caverns? A squeak can be heard by anyone passing close by as he attempts to stiffle a yawn only half successfuly, arms plastered in front of his face.

With the stench of the stables being left well behind in the bathing caverns, a freshly — and perhaps painfully — scrubbed Galina emerges from that selfsame cavern with her hair down in a loose, damp braid. Gone are her work clothes, replaced with her usual white blouse, black skirt and matching slip-on shoes; added would be the presence of a crooning blue firelizard that's taken up residence upon her shoulders, draped casually across like a bizarre accessory. She seems on her way further into the caverns when that squeak draws her attention with a faint furrowing of her brow. Cyanosis, in kind, looks over and offers an answering — if dubious-sounding — chirp of his own.

R'lin isn't aware of the brow being furrowed at him, but a chirp (especially a dubious one) is heard and his eyes snap that way with a blink. Peer. Before anything can be said though his arms raise over his head, stretching up above his head, elbows bent with hands managing to muss up his hair even more. "Is it morning?" is asked with a distinctly fuzzy tone, eyes bleary with the remnants of sleep.

It lives! Cyanosis chirrups brightly, gape-mawed when R'lin responds. Galina lifts a hand, not to wave, but to gently tap the blue's mouth shut and give his nose a rub as she turns a bit more fully to face the rider. "No." Pause. Headtilt. "Depending on one's perspective, you have either missed it by several hours or you have several hours to wait until it comes again." There's a beat, then two, before clarification comes: "They are starting to serve dinner, but it appears to be a vegetable-scarce stew."

R'lin stares at the speaker with a very befuddled expression on his face for awhile. Awhile ends though when she hits the mention of dinner. "Oh!" Now he gets what time it is, and perhaps what happened. Unfortunately the response isn't gleeful, and it's not just the mention of the scarceness of vegetables. "Shardit… why'd I wake up then? Should be tomorrow." Grumble mutter pout. Still pouting he peers up at the other for a moment longer, using the arms of his chair for leverage to at least be sitting up relatively straight.

Such befuddlement is met with impassivity on her part. The candidate gives the blue's nose another rub before her hand drops and she tilts a look briefly in the direction of the living caverns before it settles on R'lin again. "Perhaps because you are attempting to sleep in a chair in what will soon be one of the busiest parts of the Weyr soon," is half speculation and half observation. Galina's head tilts the other way, birdlike. "You should rest more, unless sleeping in chairs is a typical habit of yours."

R'lin gives a wrinkle of his nose at the mention of more rest. "No, it's not… thus I'm not very good at it." He doesn't frequently sleep in chairs, at least, nobody really should, it's not good for your back or neck for one. Indeed, there's definitly a wince as he tilts his head to once side. "If my sharding dragon would take me back up to my weyr I would!" Ah, that would be the source of the grumpy most likely.

"I see," says she, lapsing briefly into silence. Galina studies him for a moment or two before finally asking, "Why is she refusing to do so?" This seems rather vexing to her, even if such vexation shows only in the slight rise of one eyebrow and the matching, downward quirk of that corner of her mouth. Then again, she might also be reacting to his apparent soreness; it's hard to say with those healer-y sorts, sometimes.

It's not healer-y sorts that it's hard to say with… it's Galina. She's really a mystery to R'lin. At least she's having a relatively normal conversation with him right now. Oh wait… nothing about the sleeping on a chair in the lower caverns, dragon refusing to take a rider to their weyr, etc is exactly normal. "Hrmph." is the only response from R'lin initially though "Cause she knows I won't leave again if she does." It makes perfect sense, really! The greenie seems to be waking up though, pulling his feet underneath him and straightening up.

Normal? Wildly overrated by some people's standards or naught but an abstract, arbitrary concept by the healer-turned-candidate in question. Oh well. Galina's other brow tweaks up a little, soon surpassing the first when R'lin makes his admission. "Why would she believe that to be true?" the question is offered much like the first, flat and without expectation — or anticipation of a given answer. There's a beat or two, then she adds, perhaps purely tangentially, "There should be plenty of spare beds in the resident caverns now."

R'lin simply peers at the other for a longer than necessary length of time, contemplating his answer. Or at least that would make sense, who knows if that's really the reason for the stare. "Cause it is?" He didn't say 'thinks', he said 'knows' after all. Details like that can be accidental misuse of words or… exactly what was meant. "I'd likely end up in the wrong one." is said with a slightly annoyed looking smirk that falls short of reaching his eyes.

Galina just knows some people aren't as careful with their words as they ought to be, and the clarification elicits a shallow nod. "Is there a particular reason why you would not leave again?" Is she normally this nosy? Probably only at odd times like this, when there are questions left to be unearthed that cannot be resolved via simple deduction. "Doubtful," she intones for the last, "unless you have some concept of what the 'right' one is. Many are abandoned now because their occupants are candidates," and, yes, that /is/ a rather wry utterance from the dull one.

R'lin eyes the other for a moment longer before simply giving a vague smile. It's attempting to be a harmless one or something, but it's simply flat more than anything else. "Yeah there is, no you don't need or probably want to know, and there's definitly are wrong ones." There we go, correction with absolutely no explination at all. "Like you, you're a candidate now? Congrats. They're pains in the butt sometimes, but wonderful anyhow." His? Falls in the 'pain in the butt' category right now apparently. Suddenly his mind clicks into a thought and eyes darts around, leaning oer to peek next to his chair one side at a time. Finally he leans forward to peer underneath and spots the strap of a knapsack where his feet should be.

Oh, so it's going to be /that/ way. Fortunately for R'lin, that's the extent of her nosiness in that topic; satisfied, or seemingly so, Galina just nods, once, mechanically and moves slightly to one side to allow a knot of people to pass along to the bathing caverns. "I see." And that's that. No, she's not sure how to take that 'congrats', for her expression screws up briefly into a thing of mild bewilderment. Instead, "I fear what they will do to the infirmary." They. Of course it's 'they'. As he reaches for the knapsack, she flicks a look down as well, studying what she can of the bag. So much for normal conversation, as she's gone quiet again.

The knapsack is actually rather boring unfortunately. It's simple material with only minimal pockets, the main on covered with a flap that buckles in the front. There's a slight bulging to hint that indeed there are contents inside but it's nothing even close to full. R'lin tugs it into his lap with a sigh and wrinkles his nose before peeking at the other. "Oh… they won't destroy it at least. It'll either be waiting for you in one piece after the hatching, or when you graduate."

"In the former situation, it will cease to be a concern of mine; in the latter, perhaps it will be much the same," is grimly noted, though Galina lifts a hand to briefly pinch the bridge of her nose. A breath is taken, released, and her hand lowers again with neutrality remaining firmly in place. While he examines the contents of his bag, she's silent, glancing just past him to … something or another. Or probably nothing at all. She seems to return to the here and now with a sudden, if typically flat, "Next time, if you require a bed, check in with the infirmary. They may have a spare bed, if you can come up with a reasonable excuse for needing one."

R'lin blinks for a little longer than necessary at the resonse he gets. "Wait.. if you don't impress you're leaving?" Oh yes, there's a bit of a pout there. Who knows if that was what was meant… that's how his brain understood it. At the mention of the infirmary though he just smirks yet again and shakes his head. "What I need is a ride…" there's a bit of a blink at that "Wait… no, bad idea… shardit." And with that he's slumping once more with a pout. "Sabs would let me use hers I bet…" and another doubletake with that "Wait.. no… that's bad too, and sounds worse than I meant it. I meant… aww…." sulk.

Galina tilts her head just slightly to one side, with a slow, slow blink. "I was recalled to the Hall initially to continue my studies before the-" she pauses, words being dismissed in rapid succession before she settles on "-acquisition of this knot. I intend to return afterward to continue my studies." Does she pick up on that pout? Maybe. That might be what prompts, "It is not terribly far, relatively speaking." And then she's quiet again while he goes into muttering, with her rigid posture and impassivity likely comical compared to his slumping and doubletaking. "Grigoriy might permit you to use his quarters, if you can tolerate the smell of salves, tinctures, and drying herbs." At least … she's helpful? Kind of?

R'lin blinks for a bit, the response he gets happily interupting his rambling on. "Oh… well, that's too bad." He really doesn't know the healer so he can't elaborate much more than that. And at the suggestion of another possible emergency roomate he tilts his head slightly. "Grigoriy?" he can't place the name from the look on his face.

Galina looks a bit confused for his response, but the look is fleeting and she's quick enough — well, as quick as she can be — to answer his question with, "My mentor." Pause. "Former mentor." Brows knit; something doesn't sound right about that, either. She dismisses it for now with a curt, singular shake of her head. "He is a healer that has been temporarily reposted to Fort Weyr due to his knee injury. Typically he travels, so his quarters are, more often than not, reserved for him until his eventual return."

R'lin tilts his head and actually grins slightly at the mention of the room being vacant. "Would work then, but if he's not here than I can't ask and really…" he's been rambling a bit again, but at least it's interupted by a rather noisy rumble. It's the sort of noise that only a digestive track can make, and from the sound if it this particular one had realised that it is hungry… /very/ hungry.

Clarification: "He is here, currently, but he may be traveling soon to go south." And if there's an oh-so-faint twinge of longing in her voice … well. Who can blame her? Traveling to distant holds to poke at festering wounds is definitely this healer's cup of tea. Galina is pulled out of her brief reverie at the sound of that grumbling, with a concerned — purely clinical, really — expression emerging. "If you are quick, you may be able to salvage some of the rolls they have to go with the stew." Helpful. Oh-so-helpful.

R'lin turns his head to peer at the door leading to the lower caverns, lips pursing for a moment as he notices another handful of people head exactly that direction. "But it'll be crowded…" is said with a most definite whine, one that rivals a sad eyed puppy dog without fail. "Or… you could sneak in and grab some for me?" is said with an overly hopeful expression, peering up at the candidate. She /could/ be helpful, yes she could. "Please?" Because obviously, he's helpless.

Galina is, unfortunately for him, mostly immune to the pity-look. Mostly. The passage of yet more people toward the living caverns is noted from the corner of her eye, though her attention remains on R'lin. "It will not be any less crowded if I go in there," she reasons. "I will suffer the same impediment that you will in acquiring food. The difference is that I am not hungry and you are." Pause. "I also do not know your tastes in food, nor what you like to drink in accompaniment." It might be funny if she weren't so dead serious about the whole thing.

R'lin finds the one person he can't pout into submission? How unfortunate! Actually the greenrider is quite used to it not working about as often as it does, if not more. "I /really/ don't want to be in a crowded area, you'd do perfectly fine." is said with a hint of desperation. "My tastes in food run in the 'edible' category mainly.. and… I don't care. Klah, water, juice… " It's definitly not funny to him, hrmph. "Please? I'll… um… owe you. Or something." He's also quite convincing… really.

Galina is not to be moved! Well. Not immediately. "I do not want to be in a crowded area any more than you do. However …" she replies. She extends her arm, allowing Cyanosis to creep down it before taking wing and gliding over to R'lin. While a perch is sought on the greenrider, the blue isn't the type to just land unless it seems the target is willing. With a slanted look to her knot — and a narrowing of her eyes at it, for good measure — she grudgingly, oh-so-grudgingly, relents. Sort of. "I will return." She turns, briskly, and starts off … only to pause and glance over her shoulder, adding, "And I will not forget. You will owe me." Dun dun DUN.

R'lin opens his mouth to either correct or protest as Galina starts discussing her own aversion to crowds, but the promising 'however' causes him to slam it right back shut. An arm goes out after a moment of hesitation to let the blue land. "The chair back might be a better vantage point." is stated though, and yes he's eying Cyanosis as he speaks for that. The next bit though is most definitly for Galina, including the large beam. "Yes, I owe you… I promise I won't forget." yay! Food!

Pffft. Cyanosis doesn't care about vantage points. He cares about attention, the silly git. He churrs in reply, a bit of utter nonsense just for R'lin, and then he promptly marches up to the man's shoulder to curl up. He's fairly compliant, though; if he needs to be moved, all R'lin must do is pick him up and put him elsewhere. As for Galina? Well. She's off to the living cavern after a glimpse of that beam is caught; her pace might be slow and steady, but she will, eventually, return with a decently-sized plate of food — a balanced meal, no less — and a glass of juice.

Trust a healer to make certain to grab a balanced meal when snagging food for a whiney brat of a greenrider. At least said brat is more than a little grateful, hands held out towards the plate with a couple of repetative "thankyouthankyouthankyou!" One had retracts to give the snuggling blue one more moment of scritches before the hand will be too occupied. At least he lavished a bit of attention while Galina was gone, and didn't dare move the little beastie either, or perhaps 'bother' is better than 'dare'. "Give me a week and then I'll do whatever you ask in return."

The influx of thanks is enough to set her to recoil just slightly after the plate is handed off, though not in horror; it's just … unusual. Clearly. Cyanosis warbles happily for the attention, but at a flat, "To me, Cyanosis," from Galina, he reluctantly uncurls himself and glides over to his former perch with a long-suffering chirp-sigh. Just when he was getting comfortable! "It may be more than a week," the girl says after a moment, "or it may be turns before I call for it." She's not lingering to see just how much more thankful the man might be, however; she's already starting to move off to the tunnels that lead further into the bowels of the Weyr, some destination in mind that's clearly not for him to know. "Be well."

R'lin falls upon his food like a starving beast, but at least he's a beast with manners! And a fork and knife, and all of those handy civilized things. "Long as it's more than a week." is mumbled as he offers a wave. "You too!" And.. food.

'The World of Pern(tm)' and 'The Dragonriders of Pern(r)' are copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) l967, 2000. This is a recorded online session, by permission of the author but generated on PernWorld MUSH for the benefit of people unable to attend.