Fort Weyr - Galleries
The galleries are carved right out of the rock face, the rows and rows of benches rising high up into the air on a slight slant. Stone and wood benches that used to be known for offering little in the way of comfort, are now padded with cushions in Fort Weyr's colors. Placed along the railing at regular intervals are antique looking baskets filled with cheery fabric flowers. The curving walls sport tapestries in warm vibrant colors that seem to add a dash of color to the otherwise dreary stone. Where the galleries curve slightly at the ends, affording those attending hatchings or clutchings a decent view of the sands, shaded lanterns offer warm lighting along the rows of benches.
Candidate chores tend to keep candidates, like Kairhys, very busy. As that is their whole purpose aside from being designed to prepare them for the tasks ahead should they walk off the sands that fateful day with a lifemate of their very own. Things of this nature aren't likely on the young weaver apprentice's mind, considering he's curled up in at the end of one stretch of benching and snoring softly. It might almost be cute save for the drool running down one side of his chin and the way his mouth hangs open as if to catch some insect or another. Open in his lap is his sketchbook, a half complete series of beautifully shaded representations of the clutch out there. His pencil has rolled out onto the floor somewhere out of sight, or might of been tucked away before the lapse of consciousness occurred. Considering it's only a few hours before lights out for the white knotted ones, it appears as if the boy was unable to hold out for that long.
Chores keep the candidates busy and duties keep the Weyrleader just as busy, it would seem. Somehow, fate has worked out a small pocket of time where Th'ero does have some free time to himself. One would think he'd flee for some private recess in the Weyr, yet it's not the case. Instead, quiet foot falls signal his arrival into the galleries as he pauses at the top of the stairs to peel off his gloves and tuck them inside a pocket somewhere, while his jacket is also unbuckled and shucked off, revealing the mid-sleeved tunic he wears beneath it. It's warm enough in the galleries and even hotter on the sands, which may explain why he's up in the stands rather then on the small platform below. While he folds the jacket over one arm, he balances a small worn looking notebook in the other. Seems even now Th'ero can't quite escape work or perhaps it's some light reading? Who knew the bronzerider even fancied that pastime. Brown eyes quickly scan the next to deserted galleries, relief evident in features and posture a like. But then a form is spied, even curled up as it is and curiosity takes over. Moving quietly and carefully, Th'ero approaches slowly until it's clear to him exactly who the form is. Briefly does the Weyrleader smile, though he doesn't wake the candidate. Instead, he puts his jacket and the notebook aside and proceeds to try and gently work the opened sketchbook from Kairhys' lap, less it fall and ruin the half completed series. Should he be successful, Th'ero will admire the work as he sets the book aside, though despite it being less then polite to do so, he begins to flip back through the pages, perhaps innocently seeking more work of the clutch only to find… something else entirely. If the candidate were to wake now, he'd be met with a view of the Weyrleader slightly bent over and simply staring at the sketchbook, expression completely blank.
Kairhys is for all intents and purposes, completely passed out. He does not see or hear anything except perhaps whatever his subconscious has decided to play out for him amongst his dreams, should he be having any. When Th'ero comes over he doesn't twitch even in the slightest, but proving just how at ease the young holder was with his surroundings considering his utter lack of guard. Even when the thick and well cared for tome sized sketchbook is freed from his lap, the weaver does nothing, the hand and arm draped over it falling limply to hang over the side of the bench upon which he is currently slumped. While the Weyrleader does find as he flips through the many many pages of sketches, more drawings of the clutch, he would also discover more than a few dozen sketches of none other than - himself. Every single one is tastefully done, lacking any fanciful renditions or artistic deviations from the reality of their current relationship, it's still clear that the sixteen turn old had been much more aware of Th'ero than the bronzerider might of been of him. As the pages are turned, there are of course other depictions of everyday items, practice perhaps of the play of shadow and light upon folds of fabric or the reflection of fruit against the metal of a kettle. Refractions to be found in a glass of water, as well the the refreshing suggestion of condensation upon it. There are portraits of his fellow candidates, Deitra, Adalinus, Xanshalla, and a more recent beginnings of one of Chyhi. Seems whoever the lad has had a chance to meet. Though every couple of pages, the Weyrleader's face appears, sometimes with a focus on eyes or hands, the slope of his neck or even the curls of his hair. The eyes seems to be feature he concentrates on the most, this and the mouth. All are lovingly shaded and it's obvious that Kai takes great care in capturing the essence of life, even in the sketches of a stunningly beautiful young girl with dark hair and enormous pale eyes.
Luck favors the Weyrleader it seems as Kairhys remains dead to the world and oblivious to Th'ero's movements and the removal of the cherished sketchbook. As he carefully flips through the pages, it's the ones that hold the striking sketches of himself that give the bronzerider pause, a slight frown creasing his brow once he's finished simply blankly staring down at the pages. He's not one to ignore talent though when he sees it and while the initial shock of seeing sketched renditions of himself passes, he investigates further, lingering on some pages longer then others and always carefully handling the pages. While it isn't polite in the least for the Weyrleader to be snooping into Kairhys' work, he's at least handling it with as much care as the candidate may do himself. When he reaches the candidate portraits, Th'ero's lips curve upwards in the barest of smiles only to be replaced by something a little more puzzled as he finds more work of himself. As he works to the last of the pages, lingering now on the beautiful young woman, he settles himself down to the bench, with the sketchbook now at his side and between him and Kairhys. So distracted is he, that he's failed to even rouse the sleeping candidate.
Unfortunately for poor Th'ero, that luck does not hold true, not with the screaming infant suddenly belting out with a pitch of voice well enough to wake the dead. Kairhys snorts awake all at once, eyes widening some as he sits suddenly up and fully alert, looking around until finding the source of the rude awakening. Of course by this time the book has been completely leafed through from beginning to end, revealing much more than perhaps the weaver intended about himself without having to even speak a word about it, and has been set on the beach between them. There is a soft groan from him as it suddenly dawns on him that the baby was not in fact some sort of warning alarm or some such and his shoulders hunch. Apparently not as awake as he might of initially appeared, Kai makes a face and wipes at the saliva slightly congealed on the side of his chin before brown eyes sweep back to finally notice Th'ero there. There, and sitting on the same bench as him and rather close. "Oh, um…hello." he says with a flush to his cheeks dark enough to be noticeable over his tan, admittedly very distracted by the Weyrleader's presence, and perhaps out of habit his hands immediately go out to touch the book he thinks is still on his lap. "Wait…where is…?!" Now panic begins to set in, and he's frantically looking here and there and seemingly everywhere before he finally finds the missing item right there on the bench between them. Relief for this and he picks it up carefully, letting out a soft breath.
Unfortunately for poor Th'ero, that luck does not hold true, not with the screaming infant suddenly belting out with a pitch of voice well enough to wake the dead somewhere in the back of the galleries. While its mother had probably come in to get some peace and quiet in the warmest place in the weyr, well, now it was quite the opposite. Kairhys snorts awake all at once, eyes widening some as he sits suddenly up and fully alert, looking around until finding the source of the rude awakening. The woman with the infant sends an apologetic look before she rises, hushing her child, and makes for the exit likely to take care of whatever had caused the unhappiness. Of course by this time the weaver's sketchbook has been completely leafed through from beginning to end, revealing much more than perhaps than Kai ever wished about himself without having to even speak a word about it, and has been set on the beach between them. There is a soft groan from him as it suddenly dawns on him that the baby was not in fact some sort of warning alarm or some such and his shoulders hunch. Apparently not as awake as he might of initially appeared, Kai makes a face and wipes at the saliva slightly congealed on the side of his chin before brown eyes sweep back to finally notice Th'ero there. There, and sitting on the same bench as him and rather close. "Oh, um…hello." he says with a flush to his cheeks dark enough to be noticeable over his tan, admittedly very distracted by the Weyrleader's presence, and perhaps out of habit his hands immediately go out to touch the book he thinks is still on his lap. "Wait…where is…?!" Now panic begins to set in, and he's frantically looking here and there and seemingly everywhere before he finally finds the missing item right there on the bench between them. Relief for this and he picks it up carefully, letting out a soft breath.
The sudden sound of the galleries being filled with a screaming infant isn't just good to wake the dead as it does just enough of a good job to startle distracted and unsuspecting Weyrleaders too. Th'ero's head turns to seek out the source of the wailing, grimacing at the interruption and sudden jarring from his thoughts, never had being one who enjoyed being surprised or startled. So the poor mother is given a bit of a withering look from the Weyrleader, before he sighs, watching as the woman gives an apologetic look their way before fleeing. And indeed he's seen all there is to see in the massive tome and with careful ease, Th'ero closes the sketchbook as his gaze slides back to fixate on a now conscious Kairhys. "Hello." Th'ero replies in his usual clipped manner. "Have a good nap?" The Weyrleader muses wryly, chuckling as he politely glances away, pretending not to notice the candidate wipe at the congealed saliva on the side of his chin. So it's safe to assume that he doesn't notice the sudden flushing of Kairhys' cheek. Even if Th'ero were to spy it, he'd simply link it to either the heat of the galleries or the awkwardness of being caught sleeping in the galleries. Again, Th'ero is a little taken aback when the candidate begins to panic though, but soon enough he has the answers why. He waits while Kairhys reclaims the sketchbook between them, having now turned to face the candidate once more. "Sorry. I moved it from your lap when it was obvious you were out cold." Th'ero explains, a touch sheepishly. There's a brief pause as the Weyrleader frowns a little, before giving a faint crooked smile. "You've got some talent and some… striking sketches in there." He says carefully, knowing full well that he's more or less admitted to sneaking a long peek at Kairhys' work.
"Mmmh. Ask me again when I'm more awake," Kairhys replies sheepishly, but not seeming all that embarrassed about being caught sleeping in the galleries at least. It wasn't like it was against the rules or anything. With his sketchbook safely back where it belonged, there wasn't a lick of tension about the weaver at first, not even when Th'ero mentions that he moved it. "Oh, well, thanks." he laughs, "Crumpled pages and Faranth knows what else if it had fallen." He stretches after that, more than a few muscles perhaps unappreciative of his previous sleeping position, followed by a yawn that is half stiffed behind the back of one hand. "I didn't miss lights out I hope?" he asks the Weyrleader, but whatever might of followed this fades off as Th'ero goes on, brows lifting upwards as he talks about the contents of his sketchbook. Now the embarrassment sets in, and the sixteen turn old apprentice blushes brightly red before taking his gaze off of the bronzerider and fixing it to the sands. "Ah." he mutters, clearly having not considered this possibility though he at least doesn't look like he's about to tear into the man for the invasion of his privacy. "Thanks." This is tacked on for the compliment on his talent, but he leaves the rest of that alone. There is a very distinct silence and perhaps even a stretch of awkwardness at this point, making the space between them on the bench seem much larger than it really is. "It's a nice clutch. Velokraeth should be proud." he interjects suddenly, and while still flushed and sparing the Weyrleader a glance but little else, hands now fidgeting on the fine leather of the sketchbook back in his lap.
Indeed, there are no rules against sleeping in the galleries, but it still is fun to poke at those who do. "Exactly. I figured you'd prefer not to have crumpled pages, so I set it aside." And completely browsed through it, without your permission - Th'ero leaves that unsaid between them though it's obvious by now what he's done. "No, you haven't. Still have a bit of time before that kicks in. I would have woken you otherwise." The Weyrleader notes with a vague smirk as he settles more comfortably on the bench, now that it's clear that the candidate isn't fleeing for elsewhere right off. While he doesn't quite relax entirely, Th'ero turns to glance over to Kairhys, only to be puzzled by the candidate's embarrassment, noticing the blushing but wisely not commenting on it. Instead poor Kairhys is subjected to a long, searching look before the Weyrleader speaks up again to break that awkward stretch of silence that, for once, isn't originating from him. "Thank you. And he is proud. Almost too proud, swear it's gone straight to the bronze's head." Th'ero murmurs with a hint of amusement. Seems like Kairhys' tactic worked and the subject shifts for a moment, though the Weyrleader continues to casually observe the now fidgeting candidate. Another stretch of silence and his gaze finally moves away, focusing downwards now where the sands and eggs are, as well as two brooding dragons. "It was the clutch you were sketching, wasn't it?" he asks suddenly, shifting the discussion back despite the attempts for change.
There was plenty of room between Th'ero and the seats around them to have gotten up and fled the scene, and Kairhys might still be entertaining that idea even now considering the flickering looks he gives to the exit. He does however, look relieved that he hadn't missed the call for lights out, despite the uncomfortable situation that had arisen. Especially with the long searching look that that Weyrleader was giving him, seen easily out of the corner of his eye, and the resulting tension would be difficult to miss. He pushes past it, giving the bronzerider one of his toothy grins, though the laughter accompanying it does have an edge of awkwardness. "That sounds pretty typical from what I've been hearing about bronzes." he points out, happy to clutch to a topic other than the contents of his sketchbook. "I've been talking to some of the riders I've been assigned to when my chore falls on internship, and I've been lucky to get one of each of the colors guys can ride on." He looks then to Th'ero, the flush having died down to a degree, left only to a kiss of rose upon each cheek. "I really like browns, though I'd be lying if I said the whole maybe being a dragonrider someday hasn't been scary." Upon admitting this, the weaver sighs heavily, gaze dropping to the floor between his knees. "I said yes because my little sister wanted me to, but I don't know if…I don't know if I'm ready for my entire life to be turned upside down." A momentous thing to admit to, and he's content after saying so aloud to let the silence grow if only to chew thoughtfully on his lower lip perhaps as he contemplates the magnitude of his decision to stand. The rebridging of the topic of drawing beings Kai back into the fold of conversation, "What?" he asks, distractedly before he smiles softly and nods, a glance to Th'ero and then dropping eyes to the book secured in his lap. "Yeah. I try to draw a little of everything, but it tends to get out of hand when I'm drawing something I really like." A short laugh for this. "I wasn't expecting to fall asleep. I guess I was more tired than I thought."
"Is that so?" Th'ero muses again in turn, idly curious over what Kairhys has and hasn't heard concerning bronzes. Seems like there's some new bit of gossip or stereotype everyday that the Weyrleader hadn't heard before. Any tension or awkwardness isn't comment on and if the bronzerider is noting it (which he is), he keeps his comments to himself again. As Kairhys mentions the internship shifts, a grin works its way onto his features and Th'ero chuckles, "One of each? You've both been busy and lucky, it seems. At least you've a taste of what it's like and have a preference of sorts. I had never ridden by dragon until after I Impressed." He then tilts his head a little, grin sobering down to a smile as his arms cross loosely over his chest. When Kairhys admits his worries, there's only a sympathetic look from the Weyrleader in return, followed by a few low, reassuring words. "It's alright to be worried. It is a big change, both with its positives and negatives." Th'ero begins, pausing only to frown thoughtfully. "One can never be ready for this. It's not something one can plan for." He tries to explain, never one to be good at reassuring another's fears without accidentally planting more. But the conversation shifts again and Th'ero glances towards the sketchbook Kairhys' now has in his possession again, before looking up to meet the candidate's gaze. Something in the younger man's words has tipped the Weyrleader off and for a moment, he seems ready to pry it from him. But just as his mouth opens to speak the words, he falters and with a sudden change of mind, covers the slip up with a polite cough. "So the world, in a sense, is inspiration?" Th'ero manages to eventually say, once he's recovered and set his thoughts straight. The laugh earns a crooked smile and the Weyrleader gives a slight shrug of his shoulders. "The warmth here can get to you fast, if you're not careful. Add to the fact that it's dim and often not crowded…" And he lets the last of it simply drift, the result quite obvious.
Kairhys holds his hands up defensively, palm up when Th'ero muses, laughing softly. "I'm not stupid, I know each dragon is like a person. An individual. I'm not usually one to fall into believing stereotypes, but seems that at least one other had the same experience with his bronze." That awkwardness isn't long lasting, especially since the rider wasn't attacking Kai about the contents of his sketchbook, this in itself seemed well enough to perhaps suggest that either the weyrleader hadn't noticed just how frequently his face had appeared, or not cared. Because hey, bronzerider. Though there still wasn't any ceasing of the fidgeting, or the slight hint of nervousness clinging about, which really might stem from other things such as sitting and speaking in such a friendly matter with one of the weyr's leaders, and sire of the clutch he was standing for. Even if this wasn't present the first couple of times that the pair had interacted. "Well…" he chuckles, rubbing then at the back of his neck and his inability to sit still really kicked up a notch thanks to that sliver of nervous energy he had going on, "To be honest I did intentionally switch a few times, even on a rest day because I wanted to meet one person on each color. I KNOW that it's possible I won't Impress at all and that I won't have a choice which color I get if I do, but…I don't know, it just seemed like something I needed to do." The holder shrugs his shoulders at this, and smiles faintly for the sympathy that his fears bring out in Th'ero. "I'm not usually a planner, I guess I'm letting my nervousness get the better of me. I'm sure I'm not the only one who's freaking out a little bit." He toothily grins more genuinely then, chuckling as he does and drops his hand back to the straps on the front of his sketchbook, unconsciously twirling the length of one piece around his finger until there is no more, and then letting go to let it unravel, then doing it all over again. He makes the unfortunate decision to meet the dark eyes of the bronzerider, and while the man doesn't say anything it doesn't stop the color from returning to the boy's cheeks in full force. The polite cough breaks whatever spell had woven itself in those precious seconds, and Kairhys exhales a breath as he takes the change to look elsewhere. He smiles and nods to the question of inspiration, "Everything is beautiful in its own way," he murmurs, perhaps seeing beauty and inspiration as hand in hand, though he lowers his eyes to the floor as he gently adds afterwards, "Some….more than others." he murmurs, working the inside of his bottom lip with his teeth, the other's laugh has the boy grinning again, admittedly with a measure of apprehension. "It was busier here at the start of the day, it's the warmest place in the weyr right now. But I was doing the candidate thing, so it wasn't like I could just hang out here as much as I would like." He nods at Th'ero's assessment of the place, sparing the more or less deserted galleries a minute amount of his attention. There were perhaps a handful of people about, but even they were starting to drift out considering the late hour.
Th'ero's brows quirk upwards when Kairhys' is suddenly holding his hands up defensively, though the Weyrleader is still more amused then he is alarmed. "I was only joking." He says with a low chuckle, seeming quite at ease. The contents of the sketchbook have been noted and while he leaves the candidate guessing to his reaction, truthfully Th'ero doesn't bring the subject up because of the lack of privacy the galleries yield, even if no one is currently there aside from them. The Weyr has ears and eyes in the public and the Weyrleader is not a fan of adding to the gossip if he can help it. When Kairhys' mentions sacrificing his free days in order to intern with riders, Th'ero does look surprised but - impressed? "Not many would have done that." He points out, as obvious as it may or may not be. "But nothing wrong with it either. It's true that you may not Impress, but it can't hurt to learn and prepare all the same." The Weyrleader then grins again, giving a faint nod of his head. "No. I hear it's the usual case for almost all the candidates to start worrying or freaking out. Even the ones who have stood before." Th'ero seems to be a well of advice and reassurances this night, even though he's not that experienced as a rider. That doesn't stop him though, so the words he's shared may lay more in personal opinion then actual truths. As Kairhys' twines a finger, the once unnoticed tension is sensed and thus draws another long look from the Weyrleader, thoughtful and gently questioning again. The murmured reply earns a frown, the bronzerider sensing something hidden among the words but he fails to grasp it. So Th'ero's response is a little more brisk then intended. "Well said." Is all he says, not knowing more lays hidden then a simple reflection on beauty and inspiration. There's a slight sigh from the Weyrleader then, though he does give Kairhys' another brief grin. "I suppose not, but the drawings you had of the clutch were really well done. You ever consider commission work?" he asks, curiously. Another lingering look and then Th'ero breeches that unspoken barrier, though he's careful to keep his voice low. "I saw the sketches you did of me and the other candidates. Very… well done. Good attention to details." It's meant to be complimentary, though the Weyrleader seems to be building to something.
Kairhys hadn't taken the defensive stance at all seriously, and considering his grin and laugh well, he probably didn't think that Th'ero was being all that serious either. Though this might be just another attempt at keeping the Weyrleader's mind off of things he would rather not have to talk about, and onto other things instead. "I know." he says with a chuckle, though he was still working that strap of leather from his sketchbook round and round his finger, and then letting it unravel. Because his attention is mostly anywhere but on Th'ero as much as possible he misses the look the bronzerider gives him, impressed or surprised, the weaver is unaware. He is peeking over now and then, because it was rude not to look at someone when your talking to them right? "Really?" he asks, sounding surprised himself, "I would think that when you accept something as life changing as a chance to become a dragonrider that you would want to have as much information as possible. Then again, maybe that's just me and being overly cautious, that's me erring on the side of caution. Hahaha." Nervous much? Just a bit, and although the boy was doing his best to keep this not quite as obvious, it was doing little more then making it more so. He nods about it being normal to freak out, though he doesn't really seem to take much comfort from it, not that he appears to expect to find comfort coming from the man who probably had more to freak out about than he did. Though the continued long looks from Th'ero were doing little to ease the torrent of nervousness, awkwardness and discomfort that the young apprentice was blatantly experiencing over there. In fact the only noticeable reaction it gets is an increase in the amount of color on Kai's cheeks, this time working up to the tips of his ears. A darting look and fleeting smile is all the response that the Weyrleader gets for his thought on how well he puts things, though this is a very strange sinking of the weaver's shoulders afterwards. At least he stopped fidgeting. He startles though when the drawings are yet again brought up, and his fingers tighten on the binding of the thick sketchbook, to the point that his knuckles whiten. "Thanks." he says softly, thanking the man again for the continuous compliments on the quality of his work, "Well I…" he starts when Th'ero asks him about commission work, but that third or forth lingering look seals his lips and brings about a darker blush, brows working together towards the center of his forehead as if he suddenly found it very difficult to think let alone form a coherent sentence. Of course this is also when the bronzerider brings up the sketches he had seen of himself in there, and the weaver is suddenly glancing at his bare wrist and looking rushed. "Is that the time? I really have to be going, it was nice sitting and talking to you sir. Goodnight." It all comes out in a great whoosh of words and he nearly drops his sketchbook in an effort to slide past the man. Unbeknownst to him, he drops not only his completed drawing of the entire clutch, but also the bust portrait of the Weyrleader himself in his wake, the papers fluttering to the floor of the gallery. But Kai is gone, before they even touch the ground.
"I had no idea what I was getting in to. Just a vague idea, but then I had it in my head that I'd be among the ones Standing." Th'ero admits with a sidelong glance to Kairhys, a faint grin soon following though his deep brown eyes tell all. The fidgeting, the twining of a finger against the sketchbook, a glimpse of nervousness, the Weyrleader has been stockpiling little pieces in his mind and will no doubt mull over them later, when he's alone and free to brood over his thoughts in peace. But for now, it's mistaken only as pre-Hatching jitters and nothing more and so his replies reflect as much. "No, that's you being a lot smarter then some." Th'ero points out in a rather matter-of-fact tone, but a soft chuckle takes the edge from it. Even the renewed blushing from Kairhys goes right over the Weyrleader's head and only earns more attention from him as he regards the candidate with a questioning look, unknowingly only making it worse and continuing a possible vicious circle. Th'ero is surprised for the third time in the evening and this time it's by Kairhys' sudden rush to depart. Blinking, he uncrosses his arms and begins to rise to his feet, questions already half formed on his lips but it's too late. "Goodnight." The Weyrleader at least manages that much before the candidate is sliding past him and the flutter of paper catches his attention, giving Kairhys' even more time to make his escape. "Kairhys, wait!" he calls out, flinching a little as his voice carries in the emptiness of the galleries. But no one is there to hear it, leaving Th'ero only to sigh in something more then just relief. Bending down, he gathers the two sheets, carefully examining both. The clutch is given an admiring look, though the portrait of him is admired as well, his eyes carry a hint of confusion. In the end, Th'ero simply shakes his head, carefully slipping them in to the notebook he had brought but never touched. The edges still peek out, but at least the sketches themselves are mostly protected. Lingering long enough only to slip into his jacket and gloves, the notebook is carefully lifted and the Weyrleader takes his own leave, frowning deeply as he mulls over the awkward end to the night's idle chatter.
'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.