Double Dipping (Bellamy and Lilyera are Searched)

Monaco Bay Weyr - Craft Clearing
Tucked up in the lee of the rocky outcropping that extends from the hatching caverns, the crafter complex is a compact set of buildings and workshops that house the industry that keeps the Weyr running. The buildings ring a paved, octagonal central courtyard which is often used for apprentice lessons. Most of the major crafts have representation: the smithcraft has a squat stone building with billowing smoke rising from its chimney, while the miners and glasscrafters share a two-storied complex next door. Woodcrafters run up against harpers, which in turn abutt against the low-slung apprentice barracks. There's even a small cafeteria located just beside the barracks, for those crafters too busy to go all the way to the commons to catch a meal. To the south, behind a screen of scrubby trees, lies the beastcrafter area and runnerbeast compound, complete with a dirt racetrack oval.

With summer settled into Monaco Bay comes all that one might expect. Hot days, muggy nights; making the cooler recesses of the caverns and surrounding wilds decidedly more appealing at times. Today however, had been on the breezier side, with the wind sweeping off of the water towards land. This makes the stretch of time between late afternoon towards sunset considerably more tolerable and so that means more people out and about. The same can be said for the crafting area, although its crop of meandering busy-bodies has thinned out as dinner time approaches. Bellamy is among the few that linger, his attention on the parchment in his hands as he shuffles them around, humming to himself as silver-lined golden eyes trace the musical notes before them. He's, not exactly paying attention to where he's going, making his way across the clearing in the direction of the main weyr.

Much as rider and dragon alike are loath to depart from the sands in such exceptional weather, they do still have duties to be tended to. One of those duties includes harassing meeting with some glass and smithcrafter-types to pick up some much-needed things for Deluge. Elsvruth is settled ominously close to the beastcrafter area for now, though, his shadows and champagne-self utterly unmoving for the duration. I'aija, meanwhile, is quick to shoulder a bag that he's been given and ventures forth to cross the clearing that Bellamy is, conveniently, also crossing. He hastens along and, while he's generally alert and aware, some internal conversation proves distracting enough that he slows down, brow furrowed, and a prime target for potential collisions.

Admittedly, Bellamy does look up, but it's wholly distracted as his eyes are quickly drawn back to the pages in hand. It isn't so much a scowl or a frown on the teen's face so much as a look of concentration as he shuffles the pages around as if attempting to reorder them in a particular way. He may have seen the bronzerider, but did he really see him? No, no he did not. The potential for collision increases considerably as Bellamy picks his feet up in a light jog all of a sudden and really it's mere moments before he just, BAM, half-wings himself against I'aija. It's not full force impact, but it's enough to jostle the pages out of his hands and send them twirling about on the sea-salted wind. Cue full alert mode and Bellamy gasps following a soft 'oof' sound, "I am so sorry, are you all right?" he asks the man in a distinctly melodic tenor, but while his attention lingers on the rider, it doesn't remain so for long. Not with his pages fluttering through the air and along the ground. One drumbeat, two, and the harper is scurring after them with apologies notably in his wake.

It's just one of those moments; usually, I'aija's on top of his game. Usually. Elsvruth sees what's about to transpire and, helpfully, does nothing - consider it an object lesson in why it's important to be aware at all times. Bronzerider and Harper collide, though not at the kind speeds that would send someone to the ground - and I'aija's solidly built enough that he stands steady despite a loud "Oof!" from the impact. His bag jingles and clanks a bit and, while he pats it down, his primary concern is: "I'm good, I'm good - but are you okay? Shells. Here, hold on, let me help you with that." He flashes Bellamy a sheepish smile, quick and somehow boyish despite his age, and then he's in motion to help collect the pages. In the near distance, Elsvruth finally stirs, ambling just a bit closer - but only when Bellamy's not looking.

Really, Bellamy would hand wave and grin and probably laugh this whole thing off when he's asked if he's alright, were it not for his assignment being blown all around the place. It's almost playful, the way the breeze carries the pages further away a little at a time, and always just out of reach of the harper's long slender fingers, "Oh no! Oh!…yes…perfectly….shard it…" Lips pressed together, that long forelock of raven colored hair falling into his face and over one grey ringed orb, "…ah, gotcha you little…hey!" Away the music sheet flitters, necessitating a leap and a triumphant "AH HA!" as he manages to get hold of one of the seven he'd started with. A semi-lopsided grin born of bemused embarrassment is tossed towards the bronzerider, the dragon's slinky and sneaky approaching going unnoticed, "It's fine, don't let me keep you. My fault entirely, after all…"

And I'aija is, for good or ill, the weirdly fussy type when it comes to the well-being of others. "Are you sure?" The question is asked as he unshoulders his bag of delicate breakables; a bronze firelizard *BAMS* out of ::between:: to keep it safe. The Deluge wingleader finally snares a sheet - two of seven caught! They're doing great! - and he returns that grin with another of his own. "No, no. I'm- seriously, it's okay. I just needed to pick these things up and get more water. This was our fault. I slowed down when I should have sped up and you sped up when- oh sweet Faranth when did you get there." That latter is both startled and deadpan, a special flavor of horrified when it becomes apparent that Elsvruth's approach has escaped his notice as well. The bronze is, by now, practically upon them, all sharp angles and lean lines. He ducks his head to examine a sheet that's within easy reach, only to snort and send it all a-flutter.

In a more comical than athletic series of leaps, complete with soft grunts of effort and even his tongue stuck out one corner of his mouth, Bellamy obtains a third page straight out of the open air before the wind can catch it again. His landing is not exactly graceful, but he manages to keep his footing. Mostly. There is some— creative— legwork in his attempt to cover up any stumbling that might have otherwise marred his reputation perhaps in the gaze of any onlookers, or the man he'd just careened into, "Fairly sure I was the one who bumped into you…" he chuckles at I'aija, although he was already well into tracking the next bit of parchment and had only just started to stalk it with questionable accuracy when there be dragons. Well, one dragon, namely Elsvruth. "Ahhhhh…hello…." comes in greeting, and was about to thank the bronze for his help, until the page he'd be tracking is snorted off back into the breeze. In a pause that most certainly includes a bit of a jaw drop in disbelief (Elsvruth, how could you)…the harper gives chase and is once more thrusting himself up off the ground and up into the air. Fruitlessly. Lazy as the sheet's journey may be, it is clearly up a little too high for him to reach and threatens to climb higher with a somewhat hardier gust.

For his part, I'aija's more concerned with trying to hunt down any pages that he can actually find - he's far more efficient and less 'comically leaping' in that regard. But, if he spots any gracelessness in Bellamy, he doesn't comment on it. He stalks after another sheet, which is inconveniently close to a particularly shadow-wrought bronze. Elsvruth huffs once at his rider and turns his dread gaze to Bellamy in turn, answering that greeting with a dry-sounding rumble that's deliberately brief. It's acknowledgement; that should be sufficient. His attention tracks after that fluttery sheet, one that his rider could surely reach if he wasn't desperately hunting another page. "The important thing," the bronzerider says, "is that we're both okay. What are all these sheets for, anyway?" It's music stuff and he's clearly not a music guy. Elsvruth, helpfully, tilts his head a bit and snorts on the fluttery sheet that Bellamy is bounding after; hopefully, that puts it within easy reach!

It's not, by far, Bellamy's intention to be a punchline but rather to get the pages being spread further and further away with each passing second. That he happened to spot one rustling overhead, pure coincidence, and really it had looked obtainable. At first, anyway. Ultimately, his hard earned prize in hand, it didn't really matter to him how it'd looked to anyone observing him launching himself upwards and off the ground in pursuit of it. Tucking the music sheet into the stack, he's quickly in chase of another, sweetly-shortened rumbled acknowledgments aside. "I won't take it personally…" he quips at Elsvruth smarmily, in good humor despite the inconvenience and difficulty of the task at hand, then chiming in with a melodious round of laughter for I'aija, "I was more concerned for you, truth be told…" A humming pause and then a leap up to grab the down snorted page with only some minor wrinkling, "It's a…oh, thank you!" he tells the dragon portion of the pairing, sliding it into the stack, smoothing out the crinkles while eyes scout for the next missing page. Bellamy's unfinished thought is shared with I'aija then, a step taken towards a page wedged in the branches of a nearby flowering shrub, "…it's an assignment, which…might be due tomorrow." Nevermind, presumedly half his total score for this round of grading. Ugh.

Things Lilyera was definitely not expecting to see when walking back to her room — well, it would be impossiblet o make a list of things one would expect to not see. Let's just say that a bronze, someone who is presumably his rider, and a bunch of papers wafting around in the air as someone else tries to catch them. She can't exactly not comment, letting the folder she's holding up fall to her side as she tilts her head a little bird-like at this situation. "Er," she voices hesitantly, "Do I want to know, and do you think I can be of any assist- did you say tomorrow?" Now her face looks a little bit ashen with horror as she glances back at Bellamy. If this had happened to her: definitely the end of the world.

"Me? Why? I'm not exactly a pushover here!" I'aija laughs, taking it all in good stride. He passes over the sheet that he was able to get, though he's already lost track of the remainder; one can only hope they're all still intact and not, say, whisked off on the wings of firelizards. Still, despite not being a crafter, he blanches at the mention of grading and, more importantly, the tomorrow part. "Oof. Well, here's to hoping they're all in good shape and good enough to be graded, then." His attention turns to Lilyera in short order and he wiggles his fingers in a casual greeting. "It's nothing, really. Just a small collision with a huge impact, apparently. I think there are a few sheets out there-" but he's distracted by something and he angles a look to Elsvruth, who is staring hard at Bellamy's back. "… he has that sheet already. Why are you saying 'take that one'?"

Inky forelock floofed across his face, Bellamy's silver-rimmed golden eyes dart towards the unfamiliar source of inquiry, flashing a broad expanse of pearly whites that is decidedly chagrined at Lilyera, "Yeeeeeah, tomorrow…" he decides to address firstly, already back to keenly honing in visually on page five of the total seven, "…this is what I get for wanting to fine tune and polish." Seriously, all this could have waited until after dinner! Then his assignment would have been safely secured at his desk under a gargantuan paperweight or something, in order to avoid situations disturbingly similar to the one he was now experiencing. "Uh…" is muttered soon after for the girl's offer of help, "…I wouldn't want to trouble you…bad enough…um…" Blink, quick peek back at I'aija. He doesn't know his name, nope. Not a clue. "…I got one person involved in this…" Possible Disaster? Accident induced teeter towards utter catastrophe? Something like that. "…uh…" A hand is flapped, then whisked through that thick portion of hair in Bellamy's face to sweep it out of the way, fortuntely not the one cradling his reclaimed work. For I'aija, the harper winces ever so slightly before grinning over at the man, "Even a pebble can hurt or harm, mighty oak." A swift reach outwards sees that page five is added to the stack, "Eh, I have time enough to…" Honestly, this kid needs to learn to finish one phrase before traversing to another. Sheesh. "…hmmm…what?" Pulled in multiple directions— scanning for pages six and seven, eyes skipping towards I'aija then Lilyera and finally Elsvruth before spotting another page sliding precariously over the uppermost surface of a nearby boulder. It's the page the harper apprentice settles in pursuit of, chewing lightly on his lower lip, "…yes, two…fingers crossed…one…more to go…" So close and yet, so very far. Sigh.

There's more squinting from Lily, over at the dragon, at the sheet music, back at the dragon … and she's going to diplomatically not say anything on that count, instead offering only sympathy! "If you're sure you've got it," she says, "Because I think I would be having an actual nervous breakdown right now if I were in your place, and that looks like — art." It looks like not math, even if music technically is. "At least equations can be reproduced." She doesn't know entirely how they got into this situation, but she is looking around at everywhere the papers have been found and imagining things like dragon sneezes. "You're very brave."

If I'aija could grab Elsvruth and shake him, he would. One hundred percent. Sadly, the logistics of shaking logic out of the bronze is simply impossible, leaving the man to just round on the darkling beast and jab a finger at him instead. It's not very effective. "Stop. This isn't the time for another game. His education is on th- oh. Oh." Something finally clicks and he rounds on Bellamy again. "Sorry, uh. I'm I'aija, this is Elsvruth." One might recognize the dragon and/or the name as being the proud clutchpapa, but he won't be offended if he's not recognized. It's part of his questionable charm. "And he wants to know if you'd like a stay of exe- what, no, stop that," is lobbed at the bronze, who remains stoic and still now. Utterly unhelpful. Also, he's staring at Lilyera, so that's a thing that's happening now. It's not even just the unblinking look of a curious observer - oh, no, he has one of those stares, the kind that tries to get into a person's soul. I'aija shakes his head to clear it. "Anyway, uh. He's wanting to know if you'd like a reprieve from all that homework. Admittedly, it will mean wearing a white knot and wearing a white robe at some point and maybe walking away with one of his offspring," which may or may not be a good thing, but now is not the time to get into that discussion. Question summarily posed, he turns his attention to Lily as well, motioning her a bit closer.

Now it's Lilyera who's earned a musical round of laughter from the harper, "I appreciate sentiment and compliment both, but I…uh…" Okay so maybe Bellamy gets slightly deterred from assignment wrangling and conversation as he sends a worried look over at the bronze-duo, glancing between them even as he flicks fingers out and collects page six rather stealthily. Ha, and it thought it could get away. Not from THIS apprentice! With the most recently recovered sheet reunited with its brethren, the sixteen turn old's brows furrow to small degree, "Bellamy, a pleasure to meet you both…" he offers with a bob of his head, sending that seemingly untamable forelock of hair right back over the far side of his face. Ah, well. He tried. "Uh, you as well…?" being extended in turn towards Lilyera. A crooked grin follows the shrugging of youthful shoulders, already strongly suggesting the final frame awaiting Bellamy come adulthood. As to whether or not he recognized those names prior? It might just sink in as the lad spots and triumphantly claims that seventh page as he stops short and owlishly begins to stare first at the bronzerider and then his stoic mount. Elsvruth might have already moved on to his next quarry, but the apprentice has all but nearly forgotten what he'd just accomplished moments ago, "I'm sorry, I'm not sure I heard you correctly…" Doesn't appear to stop him from putting page seven atop the pile of parchment and smoothing out imaginary wrinkles this time around. "Did you…I mean to say…are you asking me to…." Blink. Blink. Bellamy .exe might just have crashed.

Indeed, Lilyera does recognize his name; Elsvruth gets a thoughtful once-over from the young woman studying things about clutching and stars and tides and intersections as if he holds the answers to some of the questions she's trying to figure all by himself. It dovetails nicely with the comment of stay of execution, and she lets out a soft giggle, then presses her lips shut to hide it — but the smile's still in her eyes. That coincides with getting stared back at, and Lily will engage in a staring contest for a full three seconds before realizing that she isn't sure whether or not dragons need to blink and therefore Elsvruth is definitely gonna win. "You'll get away with losing a page and have time to rewrite it," she suggests brightly, "I'm Lilyera." And being summoned, so she moves closer as the wingleader beckons.

The bronzerider pats himself down, frowns, then ventures over to his previously abandoned - and firelizard-guarded - bag. After some rummaging, I'aija comes up with a pair of nicely knotted and neatly folded knots, one of which is extended to Bellamy. "Bellamy," the name is repeated with a particular and peculiar kind of weight, as if borrowing just a trace of the dark bronze that's currently slinking a little closer to Lilyera. "Yes, we're asking you to stand for the current clutch. He seems to think you're worthy enough - and considering how high is standards are, well." He shrugs, seriousness cracking to make way for a goofy, lopsided kind of grin. "Your call, of course. But he's as persistent as a canine with a bone." Speaking of that persistent bronze, he lowers his head to continue staring at her, which puts him very nearly on her level. The contest is over before it's truly begun, but he keeps his head low, tracking after the young woman's movement. And, while his rider seems to be temporarily distracted, waiting for Bellamy.exe to reboot, the bronze has other plans; he butts at his rider's shoulder, conveniently attached to the arm and, consequently, the hand that has the second knot. The knot is dislodged and dropped - which prompts a very sharp motion of the dark bronze's head from Lily to the knot.

"What?" Silver-rimmed golden eyes harmlessly flung to Lilyera and it's questionable just how much is actually getting through presently. So yeah, Bellamy's on a hot streak here. Swear to Faranth folks, he is not as feather brained as it might seem as of late. Looking back at I'aija, there's another long pause in which the apprentice harper tries to remember to breathe, taking in a breath that catches on his parted lips and then shudders on exhale. Suddenly straightening (he wasn't really slouching to start with), Bellamy extends a hand to accept that simple white knot of candidacy, "Of course I'll stand. I'd be…" Honored? Stupid to say no? Again, the thought is left unfinished, this time his planned words worn away by a brilliant grin that yanks his mouth up sharply to bring an all too natural infusion of playfulness to the expression, "Oh, well…wouldn't want that…" You know, to be pursued to the ends of Pern by possibly the most determined of bronzes. The second knot, the one that had fallen to the ground, is eyed and then helpfully Bellamy points with his free hand, "I think that's for you…" he tells Lilyera. Two for the price of one? Sort of? Poor I'aija.

It's a good thing for I'aija that Impressions are a one-time deal, or it's possible that Lilyera would be trying to steal Elsvruth right out from under him and become Pern's first female bronzerider. But not for the prestige or anything, just because this dragon is making her day doing things his own way and not waiting for rider-words to back him up. The staring contest was already putting him in her good books, but the fact he basically just gave her a knot by himself is going to cement her answer. "For a request like that," says she, all bright-eyed smile as she moves to and picks up the knot she's directed to with her free hand, "Delivered just so, I couldn't refuse. Although I might have to refuse the part that involves not doing craft work. I mean. I hope that's optional?" The portfolio in her other hand, raised again.

"Thank Faranth." I'aija's relief is palpable when Bellamy accepts, the wingleader's shoulders rounding as he briefly slumps forward. He straightens up almost immediately after and smiles at the Harper, though his smile is softer - sympathetic, maybe. "Good. I'm glad - because he doesn't tend to take 'no' easily, not for something like this. So. Good. Great. I'll show you to the barracks and get you situated and-" He only now realizes that he's missing a knot, his empty hand flexing some. "Wait, didn't I-" Revelation strikes like a lightning bolt and he just stares at Elsvruth, who looks as smug as a dragon can. Once Lilyera picks up her earnestly-won prize, the bronze eases back a step, all fluid confidence and ease. Satisfaction practically radiates off of him and his chest might well be puffed out a touch. "Well! It looks like he got you pretty well sorted, didn't he?" I'aija laughs, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks Lily over thoughtfully. "I think you should be okay to do craft work, though. And if anyone says otherwise, you let me know and I'll see what strings I can pull." It might not be many, but he is a wingleader and that has to count for something, right? "Well! I guess both of you are coming with us, eh?"

Bellamy's brows shoot upwards, or rather one presumes they both do, seeing as one of them is currently obfuscated by that persistent forelock. Sidelock? Anyway, yes, there is surprise. "Do…do people ever say no?" That's a question for the ages, certainly, but the harper chuckles and clutches knot and music sheets both as he tosses his head to get his hair out of the way. Again. "I'm happy to not have to put you through having to chase me down, then." This said, Bellamy watches Lilyera claim her knot, stepping out of the way to give her plenty of room to do so, and so what if he can't stop grinning like a right idiot now. "Oh, right. Yes…craftwork." Thank you, Lily. Neurons sorted, zooming ideas grasped and processed, "Preferably. Especially know…" All of that paper chasing. For being shown the ropes, as it were, as to location and so forth in regards to all things knotty and candidatey. "Yes, if you don't mind and again, so very sorry for the mess."

"Excellent," says Lilyera as she tries to suppress laughing again. Poor I'aija. It's possibly a bad thing that Lily is now firmly on Team Elsvruth here. Imagine what might happen during egg touchings if they're both on the sands! Wait — actually don't. "About wanting to be able to do the work, but on the other hand I think you could probably use it as an excuse to get some extra time on your assignment," that's for her other new fellow-candidate, now. "And I don't know about here, 'cause he's never been here or been asked to stand here, but my brother's said no probably four times now." This being her first time being asked instead of her brother, even right in front of her when both were of age, Lilyera might be a tad smug that she's the one holding the knot. Does she want a dragon? Maybe, maybe not. Does she want to be a candidate so she can say she didn't run away from the idea like he did? Yes.

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