Monaco Bay Weyr - Common Caverns
A grand stairway leads downward into the cool rock of the commons cavern, a place for socializing and relaxing, as well as an area that provides solid shelter from the seasonal storms of this area. One of the few caverns at Monaco Bay Weyr, the rock here has been worn away by centuries worth of water movement, leaving a nearly glass smooth polish over much of the room. Rocky shelves line the walls on which electric lights covered with paper lanterns rest, providing adequate illumination for the area. High above are further light fixtures, enabling a wide range of lighting options here. A natural pool occupies half of the far end of the cavern and is supplied with heated water piped in by an ingenious techcrafter. All about the room are balconies of rock with stairs leading to them and small dumbwaiters for the purpose of delivering food and drink to their heights.
(There is more scene before this prior to Graysen and Nefarin entering, which will need to be added)
Sonya sips at the warmed liquid in her hands, her posture casual as she listens to Kelenaro. Both of them are over by the klah pitchers with drinks in hand. "Weather here does take some getting used to." her gaze flickers to the scar again. "What happened there?"
Kelenaro winces slightly but the movement is fleeting. "I was riding a runner who decided he was ready to go back to his stall before I was ready for him to. I was ten Turns old, smaller and more foolish. A battle of wills ensued which I eventually lost. He threw me violently to the ground and my cheek was cut open by a sharp rock," he says calmly, not tremblng at the memory but rather an attitude of resignation. What was done had been done and could not be helped now, so no point getting upset about it.
"Ah..accident." Sonya doesn't seem to notice the wince. "Runners are so very finicky sometimes. Especially with younger kids. "Least it wasn't close enough to take out your eye." is noted. "You mentioned apprenticeship? Where to?"
Kelenaro nods his head. "Here is my field apprenticeship for the Smithcraft. Journeyman Allyr told me to take a sevenday off lessons and think about if I wanted to stay with the craft or not….some don't…and if I did could I manage apprenticeship work with all my Candidate work."
Ohhhhhh ye….nooooooo. It's morning. It's early. It's too damn early! Dragging his practically dead ass out of bed was a feat in of itself, hair still disheveled but doing his sleepy best to tame it back into a short runnerbeast tail high up and back on his head. The rest? Closely shaved all around. A yawn that brings literal tears to the weaver apprentice turned candidate's eyes overtakes his entire face, with Nefarin nearly walking into this or that inanimate object or person as he makes his way towards klah. He needs it you see, for his soul. And maybe, just maybe there's a belly scratch for himself along the way as he shuffles his feet and mutters something or another under his breath.
Morning… Ugh. From the looks of things, Graysen had a rough night, too. The dark haired candidate trudges out of the barracks, his shaggy hair an absolute mess and dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep, "I'm r-really sorry for waking you, man…" He sounds somewhat defeated, stuttering worse than he normally does when he's with Nefarin. He's wearing a dark, long sleeved tunic and knee length short pants, a white bandage peeking from under his left sleeve, "I d-didn't m-mean to." Bad dreams, man. They're a killer! He follows close behind his friend, perking up just a little at the enticing aroma of fresh klah. Oh yes. That's just what the healer ordered.
"Hmm…double work. Candidate chores and apprentice work. Not everyone can do the double duty. I wish you the best of luck if you do manage both. I, myself, was an apprentice but after being searched and finding my Askaveth…well. I like my rider duties." a shrug of one shoulder. Absently her gaze sweeps the room as she chats with Kel. So she spies a pair of shuffling candidates and she watches them idly as they make their way closer.
"…iz fine." Nefarin tosses back at Graysen, the practically inseparable pair of childhood friends who sleep in cots right next to one another towards the far back in the candidate barracks, wicked groggy but not seeming to be holding this against the tanner. Belly scratched and hair sorted the best he can without product, Fari shlups himself to the klah, making half-asleep apologies for those gathered around it, Kel and Sonny both, "…scuse meh…" Mug is grabbed, filled and passed off to Gray, then another mug and more filling. Dark brown eyes widen as much as they can and then go right back to barely open. Yeah, that wasn't working.
"Thanks." Graysen gratefully takes the filled mug he's offered and sips, sighing at the warmth spreading from his middle. The other two are given a slightly wary, and very sleepy, look before nodding, "Morning." There's a slight pause for another sip and he looks at Kelenaro for a moment, "S-sorry if I woke you." At least he's usually quiet about his nightmares? There's no screaming, anyway.
"Morning boys." greets Sonya towards Grayen and Nefarin.
Kelenaro looks first to Sonya. "Right now double work is not on my agenda. I have so much to learn, to understand. I'm Holdbred, after all, and backside of Bitra there are no dragons." He notices the other two young men approach and shifts position to give easier access to the life-giving klah. Graysen he knows casually. The other is a unknown to him. He has a look for Graysen. "No," he says calmly, "You didn't wake me up. I woke myself up and couldn't get back to sleep."
Klah finished, Sonya sets the mug down. "Well no matter the reason, all you candidates will have a full day of…candidate stuff." she winks. "I'm off for duties with the wing. Maybe later today I can get some help washing Askaveth." a tip of her head to the trio and she strides out while slipping into her jacket.
Nefarin makes a nondescript rumble of a morning greeting with a half-ass salute thing towards Sonya, not awake enough by far to be his usual flirtatious self which really everyone should be grateful for. He bobs his head towards Graysen for the thanks, and then looks between his friend and the other guy. White knot. Check. 'Kay. Kelenaro gets a muttered greeting as well before the weaver candidate leans back against the counter and starts to sip at that sweet nectar.
There's a nod to Kelenaro and he manages to, mostly without really seeming to notice, shuffle until he's put Nefarin between himself and the others. The mention of helping to wash a dragon has Graysen perking up a little and he nods, "Yes'm." The third candidate gets a slightly sullen look, "Lucky." Waking himself up, that is. He shakes his head, sighing, "Maybe we should just go back to bed for a little while, Fari… I r-really don't wanna be up right now." He's still feeling slightly shakey.
Kelenaro cocks his head at Nefarin, then the icy eyes fall again on Graysen as a hand raises in farewell to Sonya. "Good morning Gray," he greets courteously. "I don't think I've had the honor of meeting your friend. I was only Searched yesterday afternoon."
Used to playing buffer, Nefarin thinks nothing of it, continuing to sip at this klah as if his life depended on it. Admittedly a little more grumpy than he was letting on, he rolls his shoulders into a shrug and then looks pointed at the mug that Graysen holds as if to say, waste that and you die. Then, eyes the same color as the liquid contained therein flick to Kelenaro. A few seconds pause and the teen grunts out a soft, "Nefarin, from High Reaches Weyr…" Expectantly, he waits then, presumedly for the new face to return the favor. Slurrrrrp.
A flush of embarrassment spreads across Graysen's cheeks and he ducks his head a little, shrugging, "Th-this is Nefarin." A small, truly happy smile plays at the corners of the tanner-candidate's mouth, "He's my b-best friend." There's an amused glance at the half-dead redhead, "I wouldn't try talkin' to him much before he's had his third cup." The death glare and pointed look at his mug has his blush deepening and he quickly brings it up to sip. And sip again. Nope. No wasting klah here.
Kelenaro is not in the business of wasting klah himself. He looks towards Nefarin and nods curtly before offerin a rough-skinned heavily calloused hand in gentle greeting. "Kelenaro, from Bitra, though I came here by way of Telgar Smithcraftball." He takes another appreciative sip. "I would say you have good taste in friends, Gray…someone that'll stand that close by you is a rare gem indeed."
Yeah, we'll just let Kelenaro try and figure out how redheaded super flashy pretty boy ended up shy recluse's best friend. There aren't likely to be much clue about that on the surface though, unfortunately. Instead, there is a whole lot of klah drinking, with the first cup ultimately gulped down and there is a second one procured before the extended hand is eyed and then shaken in turn. The tips of Fari's fingers are fairly calloused, but the rest of his hand is smooth and soft. Hint, he's a weaver. Retracting from the contact, a brow is lifted, "What's that supposed to mean?" he asks, a little defensively, and while not especially tall— he does pull himself up to his full five foot ten inches and frowns ever so slightly at Kelenaro. "There's nothing wrong with Gray, why wouldn't anyone want to be his friend?" Hooray for misunderstandings?
There's a quick nod and a pleased smile at the compliment, "Yeah. Fari's great." He does things like wake up way before he really should to make sure that Graysen is okay after one of his… dreams. He smirks at the weaver, "Even if he really d-doesn't f-function until later." Poke poke. The teasing is familiar and automatic, at this point in his friendship with Nefarin. His own mug is set down and a hand quickly finds its way to his friend's arm, "Fari." Calm down, dude, "He weren't saying anything b-bad about me. He was saying that you're a good friend." Everything is cool. There's no reason to try to fight anyone. Especially not this early in the morning.
Kelenaro blinks and backs up himself. "No reason whatsoever." he affirms. "He deserves all the friends he wishes to have. And the only person I would ever say anything bad about was the kid next door in Bitra who was forever calling me a bleached person."
It really was way too early for this kind of shit, with Nefarin muttering as he's proclaimed as great and poked in the side, eventually batting at the probing fingers to try and push them away even as he tenses up. Stahp. Then, it's back to drinking klah and being exactly the kind of friend anyone would want on their side. Protective AF. A growl on the cusp of forming, it's the grab of his arm that has the weaver backing down, although not before a semi-aggressive flicker of eyes from head to toe and back again is lavished upon Kelenaro. That's right and you're lucky! It takes a drumbeat or three before Fari is chill again, settled back into his place against the klah counter and not giving two shits whether or not he was blocking anyone else's access to day fuel. He will, however, look at the smith past the ridge of his brow, "Why?" he asks of the 'bleached person' mention, blinking a few times and then trying to focus his eyes on the guy properly. He's totally not awake yet, folks.
As soon as Nefarin has calmed down again, Graysen picks his mug back up and finishes it off. Oof! That was close. He keeps one hand on his friend's arm, for the time being, giving Kelenaro an apologetic look. Hopefully the pale guy understands the whole 'don't mind him, he's not a morning person and is kind of extremely overprotective' message that he tries to convey. He lets his friend do the asking about why the other candidate was called a 'bleached person', staring into his empty mug for a minute before nudging the redhead out of the way with one hip to get himself some more klah. He's going to need it…
Kelenaro nakes a mental note not to metion Graysen's name when he was with Nefarin, unless it was a very congenial situation. No reason to get in a fight if he could avoid it. He allows time for things to cool off and gets another mug of klah. At Nefarin's question he indicates his extremely fair skin, cornsilk blond hair and pale blue eyes. "He said I was bleached because all of the color was bleached out of my skin, my hair had been darker but now it was almost white….it's been this color since I was born…and my eyes weren't a proper blue, they were a pale excuse for blue. So somebody had made me into a bleached person." Graysen's look is returned with one of understanding and calm.
The answer was pretty obvious now that Nefarin was getting a good look at the other guy not Graysen and just maybe there is the briefest and most muttered of apologies for his conclusion jumping before there is several more sips of klah. Then, "Sounds like a dumbass," he exhales about the neighbor kid who used to pick on Kelenaro.
Graysen nods in agreement, wincing a little. At least he never had to deal with anyone his own age making fun of him. He waits for his klah to cool a little before gulping a good third of it down, "A complete dumbass." He finally does let go of Nefarin's arm and puts a little space between them, which, incidentally, puts a little more space between him and the Bitran.