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Author Topic: Closed Event The Fruits of Cooperation [ 33.3.2590 / 8 PM ]  (Read 1655 times)

Offline NPC Account

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The Fruits of Cooperation [ 33.3.2590 / 8 PM ]
« on: January 07, 2017, 03:33:01 PM »

As it usually does, news travels fast in the weyr—due in part both to the close proximity in which everyone lives and the small numbers of their population. Which suited Phenust just fine—in this way, without having to extend formal invitations to anyone, the news that everyone was welcome to come see the Fisher Craft’s progress would spread naturally through all those who might wish to bear witness to their efforts.

This was a burgeoning triumph for more than just his Hall, after all, and the old Fisher hoped that more than just Crafters would be curious enough to come see the initial skeleton of what his Hall had affectionately begun calling a ship. She wasn’t one in the most technical sense, but Phenust wasn’t about to squash their excitement with a technicality that didn’t especially matter. As far as their tiny vessels were concerned, the new boat was a ship. She even had a name, though she wouldn’t be officially christened until she’d been fully built—but Southern Hope was the name he and the other Fishers had agreed on as a particularly auspicious and optimistic one.

With tensions currently so explosive between the different factions of the weyr, Phenust hoped this would be perceived as an offering of peace. He had no designs that the Weyrleadership would lift their ban on travel or construction around the Mine Hall… but that wasn’t really the point. At least not now. More, he wanted this news to be seen as a thanks. Only through the efforts of everyone in the weyr, including the riders, had Fisher Hall been able to gather enough resources to even undertake this task.

Nor was it a ploy for more. They had enough to finish at least this one ship, even if they could not build another for a long time. But even then, it would make some difference. Southern Hope wasn’t especially large, but she didn’t need to be in order to bring in hauls of fish from the deeper sea. She was still large enough to withstand the waves and bring in a fair catch to supplement the weyr’s food supply.

All without the need of a dragon escort. Which was not meant as a snub so much as an effort to alleviate the stress the entire weyr was under.

There was certainly a spring in Phenust’s step as he mingled among the Fishers and others trickling into the Weyr Bowl and its edge. Their beloved ship was purposefully being constructed away from the water’s edge—enough so that there would be little threat of Beach Snakes. They never came into the Weyr Bowl proper. And when the time came to put Southern Hope to sea, they would slide her gracefully down the sand with the help of a few of M’rek’s riders from Beach Wing. Moving such a thing would be no great feat for some of the larger dragons.

But for now, despite everything, Phenust wanted to celebrate. To give people the opportunity to feel that their sacrifices were not entirely in vain.

Spoiler for OOC:
One and all are welcome to attend, whether it be Crafter, Holder, Weyrfolk, or Rider. While Phenust and the Fishers haven’t extended any formal invitations, it will be common understanding that they’ve encouraged anyone curious to come visit and see what their efforts have yielded. :love: As always, you can check in here with your character(s) if you like.
« Last Edit: September 07, 2018, 06:33:16 PM by NPC Account »
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Offline R'sin

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Re: The Fruits of Cooperation [ 33.3.2590 / 8 PM ]
« Reply #1 on: January 07, 2017, 04:58:07 PM »
R’sin had conflicting feelings regarding this unofficial revealing of the Fisher Hall’s pet project. On one hand seeing a boat this size being built again was something he—and likely many others who lived through the hardships of the catastrophe—thought he’d never see again. But on the other hand, while many believed this would be the first step to helping ease some of the burden on the riders for protection while fishing, R’sin wasn’t thoroughly convinced the wide-open ocean was any safer than their protected beach. Maybe it was the recent mine hall shit show but he was already thinking the worst.

That grim outlook read plainly on his face as he stood off to the side in the sands, arms crossed and a scowl on his weathered face.

You look as though you have taken a bite of spoiled meat.
//Shut up.//
They are trying to be more self-sufficient, that should please you.
//It does. Sort of. For all we know the Hunters can sharding swim, or walk on water.//

It still irked him that even with the autopsies the Healers had performed and even with the little they had learned it still felt like they were nowhere closer to finding a solution or even a way to even the odds. //At the very least it will help with our food supplies, which will ease some of the burden on our Wing, especially since we are not back to full strength yet.//

As he watched some of the weyrfolk and holder families coming out of the Weyr to see the boat it occurred to him he could have brought his own kids. There would be time though and really right now it was nothing more than a wooden shell. When the boat was complete it would be even better to see.

Offline Karou

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Re: The Fruits of Cooperation [ 33.3.2590 / 8 PM ]
« Reply #2 on: January 07, 2017, 05:35:11 PM »
Most the people heading out after dinner to go see the beginnings of the Fisher Hall’s boat were casually strolling, chatting as they walked, not Karou though. No, Karou was flat out running, her skinny legs kicking up dirt as she raced through the Weyrbowl, weaving in and out among the people.

“Hey! Slow down!” A man called as she brushed by him, nearly knocking completely into him.
“Sorry!” She yelled, looking back at him and when she turned her attention forward again it was only a nimble jump to the side that kept her from crashing into another person. Her luck, if she did run face first into someone it’d probably be the Weyrwoman of all people.

Belior and Timor raced after Karou, twirling and weaving around her in little flashes of blue as she ran. Finally, she slowed, gasping for breath as she saw the wooden ribs of the boat. “Wow,” she breathed. Seeing the smooth, unfinished wood of the bones of the ship made her fingers itch with a desire to paint them. She was definitely going to have to add this ship to her mural!

It didn’t even matter that it wasn’t a complete ship, or by any person who knew anything about such things, a very big ship. To Karou it was a giant, and like the giant dragons, it offered a promise of something she didn’t have, freedom to travel and explore and go wherever she wanted. It held the promise of adventure and discovery.

Her flits took perch on her shoulders and Karou crept closer, not sure how close they were even allowed to get, she figured someone would yell at her if she got too close.

Offline Marika

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Re: The Fruits of Cooperation [ 33.3.2590 / 8 PM ]
« Reply #3 on: January 07, 2017, 06:26:39 PM »
The dining hall was abuzz with chatter of the new boat being built by the Fisher Hall. Marika sat with Ian during dinner and chatted with a few of the apprentice fisher boys that Ian knew, because of course she did. Ian knew everybody. Not surprisingly though, Ian was far more interested in going off to celebrate with the fisher apprentices and a bottle of booze they'd managed to procure from some place.

“Why do I want to see a bunch of wood?” She had said. There had also been some Faranth awful pun about other types of wood that deserved her attention, with not so subtle eyebrow wagging towards the young fisherman who was fawning over her. Marika smirked and rolled her eyes. “Fine, go have fun, I’ll be back later.”

But as Ian left and people started filtering out of the dining hall, Marika lingered. She sat at one of the tables and oiled her bow. Between the bow, Kelith, and Slade it felt like all she ever did was oil things. It was good repetitive work and it kept her occupied. She didn’t want to be one of the first ones down to the beach, better to let the masses go first and get out their curiosity.

Once she finished she put the little jar of oil away and slung her bow across her back, Slade popped out from between likely having left their weyr as soon as Ian had brought strangers back there. He settled on to her shoulder, his talons digging in with his usual possessive aggression.

Marika winced and then grinned. “You want to go look at a bunch of wood?”
Slade hissed. Marika laughed softly.
“You too?”
She shook her head and made her way outside. Even with waiting there was still a pretty good crowd around the dry dock where the boat was set to be built. As always Marika was impressed with the sheer craftsmanship involved, it was a magnificent foundation and the excitement from those in the craft was palpable. 
« Last Edit: January 11, 2017, 04:12:34 PM by Marika »
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Offline Droissa

Re: The Fruits of Cooperation [ 33.3.2590 / 8 PM ]
« Reply #4 on: January 08, 2017, 08:21:52 AM »
Droissa hadn't seen her mother look so alive before. Not back at Fort Weyr, when they were both engrossed in teaching and learning their true craft, not when they moved here to this awful island. No, this was a new expression on her mother's otherwise tired face. Aleera was a strong woman, surely, but she found little reason to be hopeful anymore. That was changing tonight. The crecheworker came as close to the boat as she'd be allowed, her eyes raking in all of the fine details, how the clasps came together and the svelte shape of a future hull. She was no woodcraftsman, but she knew boats like she knew her old, dead friends.

For Droissa it was a different kind of wonder. Wood structures themselves were rare enough that this ship felt like a foreign entity from some far off place. She tagged behind her mother, sticking close to her and whoever else in their family arrived. The crowd was vast and mostly in good spirits, she spotted a few candidates and even some weyrlings from Imyth's clutch. Here were well respected riders and figureheads from craft and hold that she'd never dream of seeing together, in one place, with a seemingly united purpose. The girl smiled.

When Aleera's inspection of the boat came to an end, for she could find nothing else to marvel over, the small unit retreated back into the depths of the crowd. Droissa tried to ask her questions, but the woman was deep in thought. This, too, was a new side to her mother. Dro shrugged, deciding she wasn't going to learn anything tonight at least, and finally ventured out on her own.

Back through the crowd, fighting now to get close to the ship again, Droissa took up post somewhere near the sidelines. She had a good view of Phenust and whoever might be speaking with him. She was within earshot but had to concentrate to hear the full conversation over the din of the gathering. The girl was, as always, content to simply watch and listen.

Offline Colvin

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Re: The Fruits of Cooperation [ 33.3.2590 / 8 PM ]
« Reply #5 on: January 08, 2017, 10:34:33 AM »
Anytime there was a crowd Colvin was sure to find it. So, when unofficial word went out that everyone who wished to see the new Fisher Hall project was being invited down to the edge of the Weyrbowl after dinner, Colvin knew he wasn’t going to miss that opportunity.

Vic perched on his shoulder as the boy made his way down with everyone else. Cole’s attention went first and foremost to the crowd. Sure, sure, the boat was a sight to behold even in its modest beginnings and he’d give it it’s due appreciation eventually but first he would take advantage and see if there was anyone in the crowd worth pestering.

He saw Marika, but his interest there didn’t last long when he realized Ianathe wasn’t with her. While Ian’s scary friend was always fun to mess with, she had her bow with her and he didn’t relish the idea of getting stabbed with an arrow. Not today at least.

So, Colvin moved on, moving toward Droissa. He slid up beside her, hands tucked causally in his pockets as he gazed up at the wooden frame of the boat.

He gave a low whistle. “Man,” he said glancing down at Droissa, “if I could get a girl to look at me the way you’re looking at this boat I’d be a lucky guy.” He teased good-naturedly. Even unfinished the boat was every bit as impressive as the massive intricate doors the Smith Hall had made for the Mine Hall. “I wonder if they’d let Candidates sign up to help on excursions out to sea.” He mused aloud. Wouldn’t that be something? Getting out of this Weyr for more than a couple marks at a time? Colvin had never been on a boat. Not even the small ones the Fishers currently used.


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Offline Fisk

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Re: The Fruits of Cooperation [ 33.3.2590 / 8 PM ]
« Reply #6 on: January 08, 2017, 08:35:39 PM »
The edge of the crowd was where Fisk had decided to start his night. The fisher could watch the expressions of the many men and women who had decided to come down and inspect the fishing boat, as the saw the full extent of the Fisher Hall's achievement for the first time.

It made him proud. Despite the walls that had seemed to sprout up from the ground like weeds whenever they were making any progress with the construction, they had prevailed. The hall would have just enough material to finish this boat. Ship. This ship. They weren't going to have anything else bigger for a while, so why not give it a name that made everyone proud of it.

This skeleton of a vessel is the closest to a ship that we are going to have for a while. He thought to himself.

Seafoam cuddled further into the crook of his shoulder and neck. The beautiful green had shown her nature over the past few sevendays, sweet and sensitive, but not too shy as to not ask for an eyeridge rub from any stranger she met. Fisk had tried to teach her about the danger of giving any old person the gift of her company, but the little flit didn't seem to get it. She liked him, but she also liked everyone else too.

His time for observation was almost up, but he took a little moment longer to admire the skeleton of the ship's hull before he slipped into the crowd for some socialising.

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Offline Yaina

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Re: The Fruits of Cooperation [ 33.3.2590 / 8 PM ]
« Reply #7 on: January 08, 2017, 10:47:44 PM »
Of course as soon as Yaina heard that the Fishers, of all people, were going to unveil something HUGE, Yaina found every excuse that she could possible think of to be with the grownups in the Weyr Bowl and not in the Creche doing school work. It was certainly safer than her more recent expeditions.

She prepared for the day by actually making sure her hair was clean and she had one of the older Chrechlings plait her hair and stick her shiny stones and shells between the plaits. Her extra stones and shells went into her bag and out came her net, too broken as it was for actual use but perfect for her. The net she wrapped around her shoulders as a sort of shawl. Finally, she was ready and more than excited though slightly sad that her sea friends won't be able to see whatever big news the Fishers just had to announce NOT on the beach.

It only took a few minutes of harassing the Fishers she did know and being too much in the way for her to be kicked out further into the crowd. Yaina made sure to give them a nice big old pout before actually listening. She wanted to touch the boat and play around it so maybe if she was nice they would let her. She made sure to walk extra slow and try to look extra sad, shooting them a sad face every few feet or so until they ignored her too much or were out of her sight from the people. At this point she puffs her cheeks and stomps through the crowd not really paying any attention to where she is going. She was excited for the new creation of the Fishers and it was an insult that the entire Weyr did not stop what they were doing to come outside and admire it for its beauty. People didn't need to be mended and food didn't need to be made. All that mattered was this boat.

Briefly she wondered if this meant that the Fisher's were now in charge of the Weyr, but she knew too much by now about how Weyrs work to know that that would never be the case. Too bad, Fishers would know how to run the Weyr correctly. She nods to herself in agreement.

Offline Droissa

Re: The Fruits of Cooperation [ 33.3.2590 / 8 PM ]
« Reply #8 on: January 09, 2017, 05:10:41 PM »
The voice behind her was startling, but not entirely unexpected. She was in a public place, after all. Still, Droissa reacted with a small jump before her brain processed who the voice belonged to. At least it wasn't a complete stranger. Colvin wasn't as irritating to her these days, actually speaking and interacting with him had something to do with it. Also, though, seeing his musical talent added a new note to his character that she hadn't considered before, it made him a little more human. So, she jumped, but that alarm was brief and faded near instantly.

Droissa turned toward him, not entirely but enough for polite conversation while still keeping the center of her attention on the vessel and those around it. His first comment coaxed a wry grin to her lips. She waved a hand at him, dismissing that with the motion.

Colvin's second remark deserved an actual response, though. That was an angle she hadn't considered until he'd said it. "Shards, I'd kill for that chance. Maybe once they build more and hands start to get short.." It'd definitely be something she'd be asking O'sir about, though.

Dro's usual front had softened to him, just a touch, and she felt the need to give more to this conversation than just wistful yearning. "Is that why you're here, then? Secret ship fanatic? I'm sure I could convince the boat brotherhood to initiate you if you want it bad enough." There was a gleam to her eyes that lightened them even in the dark of the evening.

Offline M'rek

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Re: The Fruits of Cooperation [ 33.3.2590 / 8 PM ]
« Reply #9 on: January 09, 2017, 06:35:54 PM »
M'rek might not be a Fisher himself, but his Wing worked closely and often enough with them that he felt a sense of vicarious pride toward them and their achievement. And no matter the current state of things between Riders and Crafters, seeing something new being made... it served to remind him of all that they had to protect -- and why. Pern might not be kind or forgiving, but they had survived. And maybe someday they could even do more than that. Thrive instead of fighting tooth and nail for both life and resources.

Even if he didn't see such a thing in his lifetime, working toward it w as a worthwhile goal. The Bronzer just wished that there didn't have to be so much divisive politics involved. This might very well be a step in the right direction, but he thought it would be a very long time before Weyr, Hold, and Hall were as harmonious as the old stories said they had once been.

If that was even true of then.

Which was certainly possible -- that it was nothing more than a romanticization of the past.

Whatever the case, he would take what joy he could now in seeing the Fishercraft advance. The remaining people of Pern needed hope, and maybe this could offer some.

M'rek was surprised but pleased to see R'sin in attendance as he made his way down to the edge of the Bowl. He knew the other Wingleader felt frustration toward the Holders and Crafters out of a differing sense of priorities, rather than wanting to deny them out of spite or hatred as some thought. And while the two of them might not always see eye-to-eye, M'rek could appreciate his viewpoint.

So, while not directly approaching to engage him in conversation, he did nod to him in respectful acknowledgment. He would take that R'sin had bothered to show up at all as a good sign.

For his part, though, M'rek wanted to get a closer look at the skeleton of the boat -- or ship, as the Fishers seemed to be proudly calling it. Perhaps one of them could answer a few curious questions he had about their plans for it.

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Re: The Fruits of Cooperation [ 33.3.2590 / 8 PM ]
« Reply #10 on: January 09, 2017, 06:40:23 PM »

It heartened the Master Fisher to see that in addition to some other Riders, at least two of the Southern Winds' Wingleaders had elected to come see the fruits of their efforts. Seeing M'rek there was no great surprise, but still gratifying -- and Phenust suspected he would see Z'tai make an appearance too. But for Jungle's Wingleader to show up was something he hadn't expected.

Maybe there was still some chance for the entire situation to be salvaged if that were the case. The only gesture that might mean more was if the Weyrwoman or Weyrleader themselves chose to attend.

So while he might want to linger to answer more questions for the moment, Phenust politely excused himself at an appropriate lull in the conversation. But ever the gracious host, he cast about for one of his Hallmates to fill in his absence. Spotting Fisk as the man made his way through part of the crowd nearby, the Master Fisher beckoned to him. When Fisk had approached, he shot him a smile. "I believe these people had more questions you're qualified to answer. Would you mind filling in for me while I welcome Jungle's Wingleader?"

Spoiler for OOC:
For the moment they're a group of NPCs, but this would be a great chance for those characters with questions to pester ask Fisk. @Inki if you have any questions about the ship or anything else he would/should know, feel free to PM Southern Records. If nothing else, I'll throw M'rek or someone else at him next time I post. :love:
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Offline R'sin

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Re: The Fruits of Cooperation [ 33.3.2590 / 8 PM ]
« Reply #11 on: January 09, 2017, 07:22:44 PM »
R’sin was not surprised by the amount of people who had come out to see the Fisher Hall’s new pet project. If there was one thing about people that was infuriatingly predictable was that they were nosey and curious. When gossip started floating around, ’Did you see the new boat?!’, no one wanted to be the one to be left out. For R’sin’s part, he just liked to be two steps ahead, he didn’t want to ever feel blindsided by something happening in his Weyr. Besides, how could he plan to make sure things didn’t go to wherry shit if he didn’t know what was going on?

M’rek’s appearance was no surprise. He and his Wing worked closely with the fishers and they’d be part of the protection still as work proceeded on the boat. They might even need to shoulder more fishing responsibility themselves as bodies were pulled for actual construction work. Then there would be test voyages to be sure, complete with a dragon escort to make sure all this work and all these resources didn’t go into building this thing only to have it ship out into deeper waters only to get eaten whole by some Hunter-esque monstrosity in the water.

Someone is in a cheerful mood.
//Just peachy.// R’sin thought dryly.
The bronze rumbled in amusement from his perch on their weyr ledge as he watched the crowd from afar.

M’rek’s civil greeting was returned and R’sin was glad the other rider didn’t come over to chitchat. He didn’t seem to be so lucky with the Master Fisher though. The Jungle Wingleader gave a weary, resigned sigh as he saw Phenust begin to extricate himself from the throngs of people fervently asking questions and seem to be making his way towards him.

“Master Fisher,” R’sin greeted dryly. “This looks like quite the project you have before you. I hope it does not end up a waste of time or supplies.” It was perhaps not the most encouraging of greetings, but like Dekkath had pointed out—ever since the Mine Hall, R’sin’s outlook had been bleaker than usual.

Offline Cayalla

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Re: The Fruits of Cooperation [ 33.3.2590 / 8 PM ]
« Reply #12 on: January 09, 2017, 07:35:58 PM »
Cal figured her sister would be about somewhere. Keeping that girl away from water was something nobody could do. She was glad her sister enjoyed coming to the beach honestly. Now if only that male dragon rider didn't hate the beach so much. She looked skyward and shook her head before going to see where her sister was.

"Well don't you look almost pretty. Might want to increase that pout a little more so they consider what you are thinking," she said teasing her sister a little. She couldn't help it. In her mind her sister was a pretty sight. If she would smile she would be even prettier. Something had told her this was just an act though.

"What is it you are after?" She asked her left eyebrow raised.

Offline Colvin

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Re: The Fruits of Cooperation [ 33.3.2590 / 8 PM ]
« Reply #13 on: January 10, 2017, 10:34:57 AM »
There was a time, not long ago, that Colvin would have tried to undermine the importance of this event by causing trouble. He would have chosen to start something with Marika, or an even dumber idea—tried to start something with the Jungle Weyrleader or another bronzer in the crowd—or he would have come up to Droissa, invaded her personal space and tried to annoy the shit out of her. Whether it was a newly budding sense of maturity or maybe Colvin was just finally learning to make actual friends but whatever it was did leave him more subdued and thus easier to handle.

An added bonus that she didn’t smack him for his comment and it seemed he’d been able to charm a small grin from one of his shyer fellow Candidates. “I don’t see why they wouldn’t allow it if the help was needed. The ocean has to be safer at this point than the Jungle right? Or even the shore for that matter with the beach snakes.” He tilted his head thoughtfully, gazing at the boat in the dim evening light.

“As long as there wasn’t a clutch on the sands at the time, it’s not like any of us are needed here at a specific time.”

Her comments surprised him and he smirked down at her, arching a brow. Boat brotherhood?! “I’m fairly certain you’re yanking my dick,” it was a crude expression but wasn’t that the common assumption of sailor’s, that they were the crude kind? “And that there is no such thing as a Boat Brotherhood,” he was pretty sure if there was any surviving record of such a thing he would have found it in his turns as a Harper apprentice milling through countless parchments and scrolls that had been preserved and saved through the catastrophe.

“On the slim chance you’re actually serious, by the great gleaming golden egg of Faranth, I’d want in.” He asserted emphatically. And though he was teasing right back in his own right, she wasn’t wrong in that he was a little fascinated at the idea of learning to sail or being able to work for a time on this ship or another if this venture was completed and proved successful. Perhaps it was the boyish nature in him too but the thought of some secret fisher or sailor society out there made him a little giddy as well. Sad fact of the matter was though, by the time this ship had sailed and was even close to considering having Candidate help on it, his time as a Candidate might also have literally become a ship that had sailed.


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Offline Halirina

Re: The Fruits of Cooperation [ 33.3.2590 / 8 PM ]
« Reply #14 on: January 11, 2017, 01:52:06 AM »
Halirina wasn’t one to give into rumors, or even respond to a general air of excitement or curiosity. However, she did want to show some mediocre of respect to the Fisher Craft Hall. Contrary to the current strained relations, Halirina did try to keep a cool head and respectful rapport with the Craft heads.

For some halls, it was easier than others. The Fisher Hall was one that had, generally, been respectful of what Halirina had to say. Usually. Though Halirina was starting to suspect so many different people of varying upbringings in her Weyr was just a bad idea. It had occurred to her on several dark thoughts that stuffing all the crafters in the Mine Hall at the base of the mountain would alleviate a lot of strain in the weyr.

It was hardly a fair order though. Or so Kalestath kept remarking.

So she felt it was prudent that the senior Weyrwoman should make an appearance. Show her support of all the time and materials… used… for the ship. Hopefully convince herself in the air of optimism that this wasn’t a waste, that this was all necessary like all the fishers kept swearing. It would alleviate some of the food strain, even if it meant even more fish in their diet. It was hard for Halirina to be overly pleased with anything of late, but she kept her pessimistic thoughts to herself. Instead, the weyrwoman stationed herself in the midst of the chattering crowd and simply surveyed the vessel. She knew nothing of fishing, of course, and wouldn’t have been able to tell quality construction from shoddy in regards to the shell of a ship. She’d have to take Phenust’s word.

You could try smiling, the Gold suggested.

Halirina shifted her weight from one foot to the other, uncrossed her arms, and attempted to look not as out of place as she felt.

Length: 42M || Height: 9M || Wingspan: 71M

Offline Daysepona

Re: The Fruits of Cooperation [ 33.3.2590 / 8 PM ]
« Reply #15 on: January 11, 2017, 02:03:47 AM »
There was not often a reason to celebrate, and more to the point, that Daysepona felt like celebrating. But the good mood was positively infectious. Maybe it was because her life, while certainly complicated, messy, and full of flits that chattered, was actually filling up with life. Between Colvin, M’kale, and now the two baby flits gifted to her by the men in her life, Daysapona found that she wasn’t ever, really alone anymore.

Nor had she realized just how lonely she was before M’kale, Moss, and her ever vigilant Guard. Given the late mark, she wasn’t expecting too much excitement at the event, but it was an excuse to take her adorable son Arciliden and baby Lhunus out and about with her. They were too young to understand anything of what was going on, but having Arciliden holding on to her skirts and carrying the quiet babe Lhunus into the affair had her spirits soaring. Almost as thrilled as Moss was to be curled up around the turn old babe. Not that Lhunus was about to sleep with all the noise, but neither of Daysepona’s children had ever been particularly noisy or excitable. If anything, the press of people had her oldest, Arciliden clinging to her all the more as he watched, wide eyed and curious, trying to take it all in.

Daysa hadn’t ever seen a real ship before. Though she suspected not many had. This was an opportunity for her children though. This was the future they would be growing up in. She didn’t want them to miss milestones so important, even if they might not remember it all. She tried to stand out of anyone’s way, knowing she wasn’t anyone important. Just a drudge with her babies and flits, looking on the shell of the ship with wonder and not a fair bit of hope. “See that, Arci? That’s what they’ll use to go out to sea with soon,” she murmured to her son. His wide blue eyes turned to what she was referring and, though he’d hid behind her through the crowd, he finally came out behind her to really get a better look. Guard, as protective of her babies as he was of her, flapped down to the little boy so he could escort him the couple more steps closer. For a better look, of course. The Bronze was Arciliden’s confidence when his mother’s skirts weren’t close at hand.

Any and all powerplay allowed by M'kale/Lyndi

Offline Yinaya

Re: The Fruits of Cooperation [ 33.3.2590 / 8 PM ]
« Reply #16 on: January 11, 2017, 02:18:28 AM »
You should go say hello, her Green remarked from the weyrledge they were both relaxing on.

Yinaya had her legs dangling over the ledge, kicking at the air as she peered down, across the weyrbowl, toward the commotion. Of course she knew what was going on. She wasn’t oblivious to rumor or excitement, but she also felt, strangely, cowed into staying in her weyr after dinner. This was the Fisher’s moment, after all. If she happened to go down there, she’d just be a bother to Fisk while he should be basking in the glow of his accomplishment. In his Craft’s accomplishment.

This odd sense of humility does not become you, her dragon remarked sweetly, nudging her rider with her snout. It might’ve been dangerous to do so with Yinaya perched so precariously, but neither dragon nor rider seemed concerned. If anything, Yinaya shoved her Green right back.

“Well. This is just. Ya know. This situation. Being with someone. Sorta. Ya know?” she fumbled, foolishly. Glad that she only had Rantasyth to hear how silly and childish she sounded. Well, Rantasyth and Ripples. But the Blue flit was content to be sleeping right behind Yinaya, pressed to her lower back.

I’ll tattle, the Green promised in a sing-song teasing tone that had Yinaya rolling her eyes and huffing dramatically.

“What, you think Fisk would climb up here and haul me down there?” Yinaya asked.

He might try. And wouldn’t you feel bad if he fell down the mountain? the Green responded.

Yinaya shoved at her dragon once more before she rolled to her feet and scooped up Ripples before the Blue could protest being unattached to his one and only Yinaya. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Let’s go. But I’ll try to, ya know, stay out of the way.”

The Green’s unlady like snort of amusement prompted a smile from her Rider but no comment as the pair flew down toward the fringes of the affair. Yinaya had to shoo away Rantasyth who idly remarked she’d go bother Xnyeth.

It wasn’t often that Yinaya felt awkwardly out of place, but she did for a moment. She wasn’t used to being in a, what was it? Relationship? Is that what they were doing? How did she behave? Yinaya certainly didn’t want to take all of his time up when he should be interacting with other people, looking at the ship, or… fuck if she knew what he should be doing, but she suspected it was not hanging around a Green Rider.

Even so, getting a look at the ship was quite a sight. Visual progress was always uplifting and she could really understand just why everyone was so excited around the skeleton of the vessel. Now they just had to finish it. Wouldn’t that be a sight?

Length: 20.1M || Height: 3.8M || Wingspan: 33.4M
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Offline Fisk

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Re: The Fruits of Cooperation [ 33.3.2590 / 8 PM ]
« Reply #17 on: January 11, 2017, 04:10:24 AM »
Diverting his walk towards Phenust he looked enquiringly at the Master Fisher and nodded at his request. Fisk didn't even try to grumble that Phenust was handing over the question answering to him. If he was going to have to talk to anyone, he might as well do it with something he was knowledgeable about. Nothing irked him more than people thinking they knew more than him or they were better than him. But here, no one was going to be able to annoy him.

"Of course Master Fisher." He grasped him warmly on the shoulder and lowered his voice slightly so that it was likely only Phenust would be able to hear. "Good luck with that." Fisk murmured with a smirk, before turning to the gathered crowd and adopting a more neutral expression.

"Alright then," he said, voice raised slightly so that they could hear him, and he clasped his hands together. "I can answer any questions you may ask of me about the ship here, as long as they're not stupid..." The fisher trailed off, momentarily distracted by a familiar looking green shape landing at the edge of the assembled crowds. So she was here. If I get this over with quickly, maybe we could slip away by ourselves. He cleared his throat. "And by that I mean... ask me anything."

All powerplay by SanctifiedSavage // Yinaya allowed

Offline S'ric

Re: The Fruits of Cooperation [ 33.3.2590 / 8 PM ]
« Reply #18 on: January 11, 2017, 11:28:28 AM »
Searic could give a runner’s ass less about the boat. Ship. Whatever they were calling it. He cared so little about the Crafters and what they were doing that it was actually starting to irk him that seemed to be all anyone was talking about. One of the very few days he actually opted to eat dinner with the rest of the weyr, to try and fit in, and he was hating himself for it.

People talked too much as it was. Way too much. But give them something new and they’d never shut up. It was grating, obnoxious, and Searic had to feign one too many tight lipped smiles when someone, in their bout of excitement, actually spoke to him to inform him. As if he could miss it. A deaf, blind wher would’ve known there was a boat down by the fisher’s hall at this rate.

The third person to talk to him was rudely shoved away with a clipped, “Yes, I know. Thank you.”

Dinner was a mistake. People were annoying. Thankfully, they seemed to be filtering out to go witness the hunk of wood that seemed to be the focus of the excitement. Searic planned on finding some dark, quiet tunnel where he could decompress until he caught a familiar shape out of the corner of his eye while turning in his tray.

Marika was one of the very few people in the weyr that Searic… had a thing for. He wouldn’t call it dating, most would suggest an obsession. Searic more or less saw her as his. In a form or fashion. The tall candidate stood, conflicted a moment. He wanted to hide away in the dark where there would be less people but she seemed to be going toward all the mess and noise. While he didn’t want to go after her in any concern for her safety or some such nonsense, Searic itched to touch her as he usually did when she was actually nearby. With so few opportunities for him to really play with someone, the people on his radar were generally people he was hard pressed to let walk away.

Even if it meant he followed them into a crowd of people. Or stalked. Most naturally veered out of Searic’s path. He was not a short person and his demeanor was often enough that once someone glanced at him, they moved. Only Riders seemed unshakable in that regard and he simply sidestepped them until he was next to Marika. His hand came to rest lightly on her lower back as his eyes remained on the ship. The mess of wood.

He didn’t get it.

“You… think this is interesting?” he asked softly. Large groups of people did set him on edge. His time spent as a drudge scraping by for survival had left a bad impression when it came to such gatherings. Gangs. While the weyr was very different than Fort Hold had ever been, he still hated it.

Height : 5.3M | Length : 22.8M | Wingspan : 39.4M

Offline Marika

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Re: The Fruits of Cooperation [ 33.3.2590 / 8 PM ]
« Reply #19 on: January 11, 2017, 02:45:28 PM »
When Searic found her—as he always seemed to be able to do—Marika was lingering on the edge of the crowd arms crossed in front of her as she focused on the ship, having no desire to elbow her way closer or immerse herself in the throngs of people clammering around the Master Fisher or more accurately now the man Phenust had delegated the job of answering questions to.

She didn’t jump when she felt his hand settle low on her back, Slade had gone alert before the Candidate had gotten over to her. After those first few times of being caught unawares it seemed as though Slade had made it a personal mission of his not to let Searic sneak up on him. Sometimes the firelizard won, more often than not Searic won, a fact that only pissed the little brown off more. While Slade did not like Searic, he didn’t cower away to Marika’s opposite shoulder, instead remained firmly planted on the side Searic was on, hissing softly and talons dragging harder into her shoulder.

Ignoring her pissant of a flit she looked up at Searic as he stood beside her, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. Her skin tingled with the familiar excitement that his presence always brought. Times like this made her resent how long Weyrlinghood was.

“The boat?” She commented, considering his questions as she leaned back into his touch. “Sure. I certainly can’t create anything like that,” she said with a shrug. Marika had made her own bow under the tutelage of a wood crafter in a subset of the smith hall. “There’s something to be said about making something beautiful with your own hands.”

“I’ve no desire to ever be on a boat though.” What did she need a boat for? She had Kelith. Marika fell silent then, content to just stand with him and enjoy the touch of his fingers on her back and the noticeable presence of him at her side. 
« Last Edit: January 11, 2017, 04:13:00 PM by Marika »
All power play by Hart and Ianathe is allowed

Offline A'tas

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Re: The Fruits of Cooperation [ 33.3.2590 / 8 PM ]
« Reply #20 on: January 11, 2017, 02:50:12 PM »
When he'd first heard of the work on a large fishing boat, at first A'tas considered sitting it out.  Granted, it was far enough away from the beach not to make him too nervous but it had enough to do with it to make him think it was not the best idea.  However, one thing changed his mind.  Cayalla said she would be there.  And that meant he would go as well.  And while it would be busy and they might not spend much time together, there was the chance they actually would. 

Upon arriving, the archer saw the amount of work being done, and his eyes moved over what had been done, and what work was still waiting.  For perhaps he did not know bloody thing about boats, he knew about shaping wood, skilled as he was at making bows and arrows.  And while part of him wished he could get his hands dirty in such a way, he knew there were orders in place against such a thing.  So instead, he started milling about. 
« Last Edit: January 11, 2017, 03:21:52 PM by A'tas »

Offline S'ric

Re: The Fruits of Cooperation [ 33.3.2590 / 8 PM ]
« Reply #21 on: January 11, 2017, 06:19:39 PM »
If anyone else had expressed appreciation for a skeleton of wood, Searic would’ve already checked out of the conversation. However, he was generally intently interested in just about anything that came out of Marika’s mouth. Being one of the few people in all of Pern that had captured his attention, Searic considered what she had to say and measured it for what it might be worth. He would not argue that either of them could craft a ship. Obviously they couldn’t.

More, the point he had was that he didn’t want to. Why would Marika? She had a dragon. The superior mode of transportation. His hand idly slid to her hip in a half possessive gesture but it had none of the force or pressure behind it like Searic’s touch usually did. He was infinitely more careful around people. Especially groups of people. Being around so many was setting off so many alarms in his jumpy mind, he’d need days of quiet and dark to get back to normal.

Days.

He glanced at Marika. Searic could appreciate work done with one’s hands. After all, he preferred cutting. It was intimate experience. There wasn’t much of a stretch to see how carving a craft, or even a bow, could be akin to how he worked with his knives. Passions were easily translated, at least to Searic. Even if he thought the object of certain passions was less than enthusiastic. But there was still a base understanding. One of the few Searic could relate to with other people. His just happened to be unacceptable in polite company.

That was the real reason Marika was so important to him. She knew he was a monster. Yet she stood next to him, leaned into the touch of him. A willing victim. Searic looked away, grounded somewhat in the heady memories of this lovely girl’s sounds. What did he care for boats after all? He didn’t even flinch when Scraps popped out of Between. There were very few reasons the skin and bones scavenger of a flit would pop out around Searic when he was thinking dark thoughts, but the Brown flit attached to Marika seemed to be one of the few creatures she enjoyed… tormenting? Perhaps an echo of Searic’s relationship with Marika. Either way, the tiny monster trilled her excitement and near collided with Slade. It didn’t matter if the larger flit didn’t like her, she’d never been good with personal space. Not having been raised a thief and scavenger in Fort Hold alongside Searic.

Height : 5.3M | Length : 22.8M | Wingspan : 39.4M

Offline Marika

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Re: The Fruits of Cooperation [ 33.3.2590 / 8 PM ]
« Reply #22 on: January 11, 2017, 07:27:24 PM »
Marika didn’t need Searic to talk, he had asked a questions and she had given an answer. The glance he gave her told her enough that she knew he had understood what she meant. That he could relate to the building of a boat, or a bow, to the things he did with his own hands.

He wasn’t always the most readable, words or not, but she had known him long enough now to be able to deem some understand from his looks and to know that every little touch meant something. The soft touch now, she knew it was because they were out here among other people. The way his hand slid over to her hip was a possessive instinct, again probably a reaction to so many people being around, maybe even unconsciously brought on from Slade’s own possessiveness. 

And they were able to stand like that,  two still and silent figures among the frenzy of people and chatter, together.

Until that fucking green flit showed up and decided to all but tackle Slade. The brown, who hated everything and everyone except Marika, hissed and squawked loudly, losing his balance as Scraps tumbled into him. The momentum literally ripped the fire lizard from Marika’s shoulder. Slade’s talons had been dug in, deeper than normal even in his reaction to Searic’s appearance and Marika cursed as those talons shredded through her shoulder leaving ragged, parallel  lacerations.

Slade and Scraps tumbled to the ground in a ball of wings and claws and Marika had stumbled forward slightly from the force of it all. She was still swearing at the tangled ball of green and brown firelizards, hand pressed to her shoulder, blood welling up quickly to seep through her fingers.
All power play by Hart and Ianathe is allowed

Offline S'ric

Re: The Fruits of Cooperation [ 33.3.2590 / 8 PM ]
« Reply #23 on: January 11, 2017, 07:40:02 PM »
Searic, probably more than anyone in the weyr, could appreciate someone who understood the value of quiet. Marika didn’t need to fill their moment with chatter. Blessed Faranth, Searic hated pointless chatter. But neither did he feel the need to leave her in the sea of people. Whether it was his possessive drive or his shell shocked brain not able to figure out anything better, he stood with her. Watching but not seeing the people around them. It was better to lose himself in sweeter moments.

Which explained why he didn’t react to Scraps. That and Searic usually let the little green Bitch do what she wanted. He liked her wild nature that was akin to something he carefully hid from so many. Why force her to hide her own? He actually smirked, albeit faintly, when she pounced on the annoyed brown. That is until he noticed that Marika was holding her injured shoulder.

Searic’s entire body tensed.

He stared at her hand over the rends in her clothes. Her skin. To anyone else, he might’ve been frozen in place out of fear at the sight of blood. But it was so not that at all. Searic’s grip on her hip tightened painfully, for only a moment, before he realized he’d been holding his breath. He let it out slowly. Collecting himself before he pounced on this lovely lady and tore into her shoulder more than that flit ever could. His hand twitched, itching for his blade, but instead he said in a calm, almost deadpan tone, “You seem to be injured. We should take care of that.” No matter how calm, how even, how almost bored his tone might be his eyes were anything but.

There was no one else in his world but Marika in that moment.

She wasn’t really given an option. He directed her with the hand on her hip, now a persistent pressure but not gripping, toward the weyr. Not the Healer Hall.

No.

Searic could stitch, if need be. He had the necessary stolen things to take care of a cut. He always did. Besides, he’d not been able to fuck Marika in too long. If he couldn’t be inside her, at the very least he was going to get a taste of her before fixing her up. If she didn’t know that was in the near future, she didn’t know him at all.

He had to be good. He had to. Searic kept telling himself that as he led her toward the tunnels, where it would be dark. Where they’d be alone. Where he’d have to try very, very hard to only taste. Only just that.

Scraps didn't care about the internal conflict of her bonded. She was too busy trying to pin a Brown down.

Height : 5.3M | Length : 22.8M | Wingspan : 39.4M

Offline A'tas

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Re: The Fruits of Cooperation [ 33.3.2590 / 8 PM ]
« Reply #24 on: January 11, 2017, 08:35:05 PM »
As he walked about the gathered crowd, A'tas was weaving through the crowd, mostly trying to avoid jostling anyone.  But that much was difficult given how many people were in the press.  But in a way, it felt good to see so many people out to see this project as it was getting closer to completion.  The tensions lately between Crafters, Holders and Riders had been rising and this was a chance for all three of the Weyr's castes to get together and see there was a future after all, that starvation could be staved off through hard work. 

As the threaded his way to where he could see better, he could see before him a young child with a flit at his side, and then the child disappeared as a Holder who apparently could not be bothered to watch where he was going knocked the little one down, and instinctively he drove through the throng for the boy.  This was a bad time for anyone to be on the ground, let alone one so vulnerable. 

Paternal instincts?  I still have those? The Rider was actually surprising himself with this reaction, and before long he reached the child and bent down before scooping him up in his powerful archer's arms.  "Easy there, boyo.  Are you here with anyone?" 

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