Roly Polies

Monaco Bay Weyr - Cove Beach

Sparkling black sends are gently washed over with crystal blue waters, creating a playful blend of colors that twist and meld under the alternating rays of sun and moon. The cove stretches out from the mouth of the river towards the ocean, mixing saltwater with fresh for an invigorating rush that teems with life.

The coast curves eastward, the waters growing more quiet along the broad expanse of beach before finally meeting a large cove. Here there are few waves, the oceans movement reduced to little more than slight swells. What might have been an idyllic and peaceful area however, is interrupted by a brilliantly gleaming structure that stands on the edge of the sands.

Large steel poles sore upwards, supporting a staircase that leads to a pair of water slides. The height of the structure is remarkable, standing at a height comparable to that of a small gold dragon. Pipes pump water upward, creating small pools at the entrance of both plastic blue slides. The rush of water moves with the slides, following their twisting course downwards while easing their passengers journey. Parts of the slides are open and others covered, creating a thrill for each voyager before unceremoniously dumping them into the still waters below. For the safety of all patrons, a large net has been drawn across the mouth of the cove to prevent any accidental drifting away.

Not far from the slides is a small stand that also seems to have been built just recently. A menu is posted on its side and displays a variety of drinks and snacks for beach goers.


A sunny, breezy summer morning at Monaco finds a certain large seacrafter on the beach, frowning thoughtfully at a pile of wood scraps placed in an out-of-the way corner of the cove, beneath a saggy palm tree. Despite the dry environs, the pile of wood is distinctly, visibly /mushy/. Merry leans down from his considerable height to give one of the odd planks a poke. It crumbles beneath his touch and he makes a comically overwrought 'ick' face. "Gross."

"Will ya shut your face? Faranth's sake, you sound like a shardin' foghorn!" Red's progress down the beach is likely hard to miss. Somebody has given the girl a small fire-bearing contraption, which she has slung over one shoulder, and she's trudging her way along the beach in a very kiddish kind of huff. That is, slow and easily distracted by piles of wood and their disturbers. "…Merry?" The girl hazards, absently clamping a hand over the entirety of the angry 'lizard on her shoulder and squinting at the collapsing woodpile. "You sure you want to be messing around that?" Because is that /scuttling/? Abort, abort!

Merius looks up and gives the new entrant a quick wave. "Oh. Hi, Ed." He kicks absently at the wood pile, but it doesn't move so much as collapse around his shoe. Merry makes another one of those faces and waves his foot around, trying to dislodge the clinging wood pulp. "I put it here. This was supposed to be a boat. I mean, eventually." He's not an incompetent seacrafter, honest. "This was dry last night. I don't understand." He's still shaking his foot around, but there's a piece of wood that just won't go away. A closer look would reveal that it's because this small piece of wood is clinging to the seacrafter with its many legs. So gross.

Rheidte makes a face that is maybe supposed to be sympathetic. "'lo." The girl nods, slowly, squinting at the crumbly bits of wood around the poor guy's feet. Keeping her hand clamped firmly around the squirmy-dark shape on her shoulder, the gardener squints between the wood and the crafter, eyebrows slowly creeping higher up on her forehead. "Was it? Well, it sure went wrong, didn't it. I don't know lots about boats, but I think that's a bit off." And then her eyes go wide to match the raised 'brows, and she's grinning at the poor guy's foot. "Aw, look at ya! Here's your problem. Look. He's just a little."

"What?" Merry leans down to get a better look at his foot. Once he spies what Rheidte spied with her little eye, he begins flailing his foot more furiously, but the little bugger just keeps clinging. "Ugh. Great. At this rate it'll be another ten turns before I have my own boat." He glances at the firelizard on Ed's shoulder and nods at it. "What about her? Does your new friend there eat bugs?" He removes his shoe and actually holds it out to the little 'lizard.

Rheidte may or may not snort a few undignified giggles at the poor guy's foot-shakin', more snorts than anything else. It probably doesn't help that she makes a little crooning noise at the bug, and its squirrely kin scampering around. "You just have to put down things to keep 'em out. Lots will deter them. Could find an empty weyr and put 'em there?" The last is added uncertainly; sure, she'll suggest it, but Red doesn't seem too certain. At mention of the lizard — who is still squirming and making angry noises — the girl huffs, rolling her eyes. "No. Tried that. Livers. That's it." She does, however, gently pull the leggy bug off of the shoe, holding onto the exoskeleton and extending the hand up so the crafter can get a good look. Ain't she sweet?

"Put things down?" Merry rubs his chin thoughtfully as he considers this. "Ah. Like plants? I am… …not a gardener." He wiggles one of his thumbs and points at it with the other hand. "Black thumb." The little firelizard gets an admiring look as Merry points out, "Livers are probably better, anyway. She'll grow up big and strong." Merry clearly grew up on livers. Gross. When he gets an eyefull of wiggly bug-legs, he reacts accordingly, with another ick-face and a grumbled "Blech." He does stare at it for a long, lingering moment, though. "Do these things swim? Can they eat up the boats at the docks?" As Merry asks these questions, a note of panic enters his voice.

Rheidte nods, drawing the bug back to herself once it's been examined properly and smiling at it. It writhes at her, lots-of-legs flailing in the air as the girl wrinkles her nose. "This guy don't like mint or redwort a bit. Got some dirt down in stores that'd tear 'im up, too, but it's hard to get a-hold of." The girl hums, then…stuffs the bug in a pouch at her side, drawing the strings up quickly. "That's what we got gardeners for, I guess." She grins, a little, releasing the 'lizard finally; to flit up and around her head irritably. "S'just what I need, a bigger one of her." She bats both hands, now, but settles down to squint at the water. "…that's a good question." Real helpful. "Don't /think/ so? I think they drown pretty quick. Want to test it?" The gardener lifts the pouch with a wry grin.

Merius tries to make a mental note of the proper plants to ward away these vicious boat-destroyers. At the very least he can store scrap wood on top of an existing patch of mint, or something. He watches Ed put the bug away without comment, but regarding the firelizard hatchling: "But once she's bigger she'll be more independent." Merry nods along, agreeing with his own wisdom. He folds down to ground beside the gardener, sitting cross-legged and following her eyes toward the water. "Absolutely we should test it." Merry is more artisan than scientist, but still there is a glint in his dark eyes as he announces, "Experiment!"

Rheidte's expression actually borders on sympathetic; she pats the pouch in a gentle kind of way. "These guys don't bother gardens, but they're a right pain other places." She mutters, smiling sheepishly at the poor ole' crafter. As to Lily being more independent with age, that cheers her up a bit, and she stops swatting at the hair-grabbing firelizard. "Hey, you're right." That gets a bigger smile, which gets a little bit more shiny when Merry flops down and declares an experiment. "Obviously th'only way of deciding whether he's dangerous or not. Hm." The gardener squints around at the ground, then drops to her knees, digging in the sand abruptly until she strikes mud. "Let it fill up with water," A bare explanation, and Red's moving on. "You're gonna make your own boat?"

Merius brings his overlarge hands together and rubs them briskly. Let's get down to business! He watches the hole in the ground with rapt attention for a minute. But then Rheidte says the word 'boat' and his eyes flicker upward. "Trying to." One corner of his mouth twitches up in a sheepish half-grin. "I like to sail on my own but the craft frowns on us taking anything out on our own, particularly if it's for purposes of leisure, only." That grin quickly twists down into a frown as he notes, "I had a little skiff made out of scraps, but it's uhmmm… Out of commission." Hard to sail with no more mast. Big shoulders rise and fall in an attempt an indifferent shrug, but Merry is still frowning.

Rheidte digs down a little more, shoveling up mud with quick hands, nodding contemplatively. "Well, that's really dumb." Ed opines with the solemn and utter seriousness of somebody who knows just about everything there is to know. "You're /supposed/ to shardin' have boats, right? Comes with the." A muddy hand flaps, spattering sandy goo in a vague arc around the girl. She doesn't look terribly impressed by Merry's craft-mates. Water fills the hole slowly, but eventually the girl decides it's enough, and quickly dunks the squirmy bug from the pouch into the water. It sinks like a stone, curled in on itself. "…what happened to it? Hey, look, he doesn't swim. Naw, you don't have to worry about these guys." The gardener smiles, triumphant.

Merius grins again, noting, "According to the craft, all I have to do is make the boats, not actually sail them." He flinches a big and moves his head in effort to avoid being spattered with sandy goo, but then his attention is all for the little water hole. He watches the little bug fail to swim, and raises a fist lazily sky-ward. Victory! "Great! No need to create panic on the docks then, I guess." Nevermind that the established local seacrafters are probably already familiar with the little roly-poly wood-eaters. He rises slowly to his feet, reaching down to give Rheidte an affectionate pat on the head. "Good job, little-Ed." He doesn't mean to be so obnoxiously patronizing, he just has a lot of tiny younger siblings. "I'd better be off to find a better place to stash scrapwood in the future." He puts on hand in his pocket and begins walking back toward the weyr proper, lifting his free hand in a lazy wave as he calls behind him, "Thanks again!"

Rheidte draws up an expression of supreme disdain. "That," She huffs, going to push hair out of her face that isn't there any more and only getting mud all over the side of her head. "Is really stupid. You oughta do something about that." The girl nods to herself, because yes, her solutions are obviously the best. "Nope! No — ugghhh." And Red has a whole pack of older brothers, so her response is probably predictable, a longsuffering sigh and the tossing of a stray splinter after Merry. Not that she really means to hit him! "Luck!" Sounds more like it should be '/boys/' in a grumble, but the…er…well, it's the thought that counts. Or something.


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