Lyrianna - Saturday, July 13, 2002, 7:30 PM

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Living Cavern

The smooth, rounded walls cavern sweep upward from an oval base, two dragonlengths long and one wide, large enough to seat every member of the Weyr at mealtimes. The soft blackness of the lava which forms these caverns swallows glowlight, so shelves for glowbaskets abound, dotting the walls every three or four paces and casting gentle greenish light toward the sparkles of gold volcanic glass embedded in the ceiling. Ancient, lustrous tables run along the axis of the cavern, and at the far end rests the raised dais and high table, where Weyrleaders and honored guests eat during formal occasions. Behind the high table, the Weyr's symbol is embedded into stone: a smoking mountain in black on an orange shield, trimmed in gold.

Perched near the food are fourteen firelizards.

You see Gigi here.

Serafa is here.

Serafa is seated at one of the tables, laundry and mending at one elbow, and Trevor at the other. "What do you think?" She natters to the plant. "That looks fixed enough doesn't it?" Burble Burble, snall wonder its only just her and Trevor really.

Lyrianna wanders down to the caverns, a hank of white linen over one shoulder, journal in one hand and a sewing kit tucked under one arm. Serafa is overheard and a glance goes around for her companion. Wait... "Are you talking to that /weed/?" asks Lyri incredulously as she joins the candidate at the table, opening up her journal to a blank page and sketching out a quick little design - candidate robe, don'tchaknow.

Serafa coughs and blushes. "Trevor is not /that weed/. Trevor is Trevor and you just hurt his feelings." The healerite pouts. "Yup, He's starting to look a little greener so I think he likes being talked to" Interesting observation no? Needle and thread is taken up once more as Serafa returns to her mending. "Oooh and what is that?" She asks, pointing a caramel finger at the design.

Lyrianna simply eyes the other candidate and her weed with a small shake of her head. "Oh. Sorry," comments Lyri, sounding rather un-apologetic. Subject change, though as journal page is turned towards Serafa. "Robe for th' hatching. Or at least it's what I want it to look like." Lyri's come up with a bit of a talent for sewing. Or at least designing what she wants to sew. It's her figuring that it shouldn't be that hard as long as she has a plan in mind.

Serafa shrugs. "I was just going to wear my old one. My mentor kept it for some reason, and I've not grown in the past two turns or so." Comes her comment, but then again her robse was tres sexy in the first place, of course she doesn't want to change it. "Now that you have the plan done how long do you reckon it'll take you to make it?" She asks, interested in the domestics of it.

Lyrianna shrugs slightly as she tweaks at the design, making it sleeveless with a boat-neck type style. "Hm...Not sure. I'd guess a month or so? Since I don't have that much time to work on it. And I need practice before I do /my/ robe. And I'm going to find a weaver to teach me how to pleat skirts..." The girl is ambitious, you must admit. The lowerpart of the robe is drawn with a pleat, just reaching her knees. "I don't think it'll be too hard, you know? And I'll work on my sewing skills with mending chores and such...I'll have it done in time, and that's what counts."

Serafa nods. "It doesn't need to be all that complicated you know. It's probably only going to be worn once, and the dragonets don't really care" She comments cheerfully as she stitches a pair of socks. She's playing devils advocate don't worry. "I'm sure one of the candidates is a weaver..." She frowns nibbling upon her lip and sneaking a glance at Trevor. "If not I know Nya used to be one" Helpful Sef, very Helpful.

Lyrianna could make it more complicated if she felt like it, but she's too busy designing a few other's clothing, too. "Yeah, I know, but I figure....It can't help to learn to sew well." Shrug as the page is flipped to M'co's outfit,"I've been busy working on finding the gems and glitteriness we're using for M'co's outfit."

Serafa nods, eyes flicking to the design. "How are you going with all that sparkliness?" She asks before her lips twitch. "You think you could get a little bit more? Trevor's pot needs dressing up, I have a mark or two I can spare." Her parents are darlings really. "I think blue stones would bring out the color in his flower don't you?"

Lyrianna eyes Trevor again. Riiiiight. "Um...Sure. It'd be a nice touch," mumbles Lyri with a nod as she traces over the dragon-design on the back of the flamboyant outfit. "Yeah, sure. I found my contact at the miners. Or my brother's at least. He told my he'd grab a few of the leftover gem chippings for the outfit. I'm sure I can get some nicer ones for you, though, if you like?"

Serafa nods "If it isnt too much trouble of course" She rocks her head a little as she sews. "So have you started thinking about how your life is going to change soon?" Serafa's in a chatty mood. "Should you Impress I dare say it 'll be a big adjustment for you." And Sef doesn't need to make those adjustments cos she isn't going to Impress again.

Lyrianna simply shrugs a bit. Well...No, she hasn't. Lyri tends to have this 'I will eventually take over Pern' mentality, except she doesn't actually want to take over. She just wants to be all-knowing and giggle and laugh at other's inferiority. That should be fun. "/Might/ change," corrects Lyri, as she will eventually accomplish her goals whether or not there is a dragon in her way. "It'll be an adjustment for you, too, you know."

Serafa snorts. "Not likely, I didn't Impress last time, don't expect to this time. I'm just here to make it look like the dragonets have enough to choose from." She nods, completely deluded on that particular point. "Your life /will/ change, think about it. You can't go back to..." Blush. "Where ever it is that you came from, and you have another person rooting around in your head. Then there is all the subtle changes" The healer has'nt been studying this, honest?!

Lyriannaraises an eyebrow towards the healer-turned-candie,"Sounds like you know quite a bit about the subject." A small smirk as she adds,"Starcraft, and a dragon will only help me get closer to the stars." Shoot for the moon, if you miss you'll still be in the stars. See. And she'd start her own library in her weyr and write a book. Oh then there's Thread, but that shouldn't get in her way too often. Oh and of course weyrlinghood may interrupt her plans, but a turn and a half of weyrling work is bearable.

Serafa rolls her shoulders a little. "Perhaps, that is of course assuming that you Impress a dragon that is willing to share your passions, some don't. Some have thier own interests and expect you to change for them." Six turns of weyr-life ans she sounds like an expert. "And your duties as a rider are full time, it isnt all just fighting a little Thread from time to time and skipping about Pern willy-nilly." Awww look she's sharing wisdom.

Lyrianna would /make/ her dragon share her passions, she would. But of course Lyri doesn't mention this, keeping her planning to herself. What she plans on is no business of the healer's. Lyri, the good debater that she is, also knows when to back off, and therefor leans back in her chair, propping her feet up on the table and asking,"So, why do you not think you'll Impress? Maybe a dragon more attuned to you will hatch this time," mentions Lyrs.

Serafa stares. "Just don't think so really. It is possible, but I suspect that there are others who are probably going to be more suited to the dragonet than I am. Same thing happened last time." Her voice is strangely level. Being left on the sands while your friends walk off with new life-mates hurts. "Impressing is something that happens to other people."

Jalir strides into the main cavern, one hand grasping a small flask while the other struggles to keep a rather agigated gold lizzen under control. Grunting punctuated fractions of sentences and commands, the herdergirl seems a bit preoccupied to greet the other two as she plops heavily in a chair, thumping the queen before her. Submitting to this indignance, Lavinia settles with minor, tolerant hissing as her 'pet uncorks the flask with her teeth and drizzles an amber pool of oil onto her gilt back.

Lyrianna shrugs mystically towards Serafa. "You never know," replies the second-to-youngest candi as she flips open a page in her journal for some mysterious scribblings, the top off the page oddly enough titled Serafa, but of course, this is unknown to the healer. Spur of the moment decision to make little profiles of each candidate. For future reference. And because it may come in handy. A wave goes to the entering Jalir,"Hey there, Jalir."

Serafa notes the arrival of the new candidate matches her own completion of her mending chores. "Well girls, its been fun. But Trevor and I now have to go and watch some kiddies in the Nursery." She grins, scooping up basket of mended clothes in one arm, and Trevor and his little chipped pot in the other. "No doubt I'll be seeing you later." And with that she'd gone, deeper into the warren that is Ista Weyr.

"'Ey," Jalir manages a brief, withering smile towards the girls as she begins the methodical task of rubbing the oil into the queen's hide. Herder's hands working smooth and soundly, we should hope the task doesn't take infinitely long. Flickering an unseen wave towards Serafa's back, 'Lir turns back to Lav, who is displaying her honeyed underside for oiling. "Did I chase 'er off?" the girl's tone is characteristically rough, but light, hinting - daresay - playfulness as fingers trace wiggly lines down the lizzen's belly.

Lyrianna giggles and shakes her head, adding notes on Serafa's page. "Did you know she talks to a /weed/?" asks Lyri, referring to Serafa and Trevor of course. "How've you been?"

Jalir nods gravely, glance trailing back to the exit through which Serafa disappeared, "Yeh, I was 'elpin' pull weeds when she found it." She shakes her head suddenly, correctiong the last pronoun, "Him! ..Him?" Momentary confusion trails into silence as she continues her oilings, rubbing between clawed toes spread luxuriously for her convenience. "I been ok, though, I guess. Wish I could stop back at 'Erder Hall, one'o'these days..." Her mule. Poor Maugrim. Is he doing ok?

Lyrianna stares for a moment. "...Him?"she must wonder. Him? Does Jalir think that the weed is....Living? Well, it is, but not in /that/ way. "Oh, I know what you mean. I miss the starries." Le sigh. "Gotten any word on ferrets?"

Jalir headshakes slowly, moving on to spread oil over Lav's generous pinions. "Notchet. 'S'what I was just getting after." A small message tube is pulled from a pouch on her belt and dropped on the tabletop, where it rolls in a few wild figure-eights. "Dun want Lav's hide t'break in /between/, though." She nods curtly, corking the reduced bottle of oil.

Lyrianna beams at Jalir as she snaps her journal shut. "Hm...I should get some o' that oil. Igor's hide tends to do just that..." Hmm... "Cool. I'll have to send Kaz a note that I really did get a ferret to name after him."

Jalir mms in bland agreement, whipping out some writing tool or another (it seems she's inconsistent with the themes and technology of different MOOs, so generic is best), and scrawling a few words on a scrap of parchment. Upon completetion, she signs with a flourish and reads the note aloud for Lyrianna's approval: "Greetings from Ista Weyr, things are fine. Wondering if any ferrets had kits." skip over the bit asking the well-being of her mule... "Kindly send any news on young ferret. Jalir, Herder Apprentice and Istan Candidate." She seems pleased enough with the formality of that title, and reaches to unscrew the message tube and fit the device on her gold's foreleg.

Lyrianna grins as she listens, and approves with a nod,"Lovely Jalir." And Lyri and her stylus hold up a small cartoonish drawing of kazandar and a cartoon drawing of a ferret. "This is Kazandar. This is Kazandar in ferret-form." Beam.Giggle. it's always fun to doodle.

"D'you want me t'send it along with the letter?" Jalir's lips upturn in a coy grin, "Y'know...for ref'rence." The doodle of the spectacle-clad man and ferret are eyed as the girl manually enforces what her distracted flit was trained to do - steadily hold out a foreleg for the message tube to be attached with thin strips of leather.

Lyrianna raises an eyebrow and impulsively rips the page from the book, and hands it to Jalir. "Sure. Why not. I'm sure it will be amusing, if nothing else." Especially if anyone is familiar with Kazandar.

Jalir securly ties the tube to the queen's leg, which is impatiently held aloft. "A'right, then," Lyri's paper and her own are coupled, folded, folded, folded, and rolled into a letter-cigar which is then shoved into the cyllinder. Once the cap is replaced, Lavinia is gathered up, wings pinned to her sides while 'Lir totes her to the entryway, steady mental pictures of Herder Hall and her friends being sent to the tiny, wedge-shaped head. With one final, "And /behave/!" Jalir releases the gold in a flurry of wings, turning back to the former Starcrafter. "Wherryhead..." to the newly departed flit, of course.

Lyrianna giggles to Jalir, happily shrugging back into her seat - she's going to get a ferret. "That's so great, 'Lir. I've always wanted a ferret.Well...Actually I haven't. Just since a few sevendays ago. But that's still great."

Jalir chuckles lowly at the girl, sliding back into her seat while scrubbing oily hands on her pantlegs. "Happy t'elp. I was jus' finally starting to enjoy alla that sorta thing back with the Herders...Selling pets, y'know..." And here's the glassy-eyed trail-off as 'Lir remenisces.