The following is a log of roleplay from PernMUSH . The World of Pern(tm)' and 'The Dragonriders of Pern(r)' are copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) l967. This is a recorded online session, by permission of the author but generated on pernMUSH for the benefit of people unable to attend.

10/5/02

Telgar Weyr's Living Cavern(#750RDJM$)

This huge cavern is sufficiently roomy to hold a large portion of the Weyr's population without feeling cramped. There's always a bustle of activity here. Fragrant dishes are constantly in prepartion for mealtimes: currently for the mid-day meal. Drudges are always present, either cleaning under Pierron's watchful eye, or helping fetch and carry. A myriad of glowbaskets and many ever-lit hearths make the cavern warm and inviting despite its size. The scents of cooking meats, baking breads and pastries, and the pungent aroma of spices hang mouthwateringly in the air. It is little wonder that those seeking to relax nearly always find their way here to do it. Branches of evergreens and glistening winter berries are ornaments of the season.

A short tunnel jaunts northward out to the bowl and the merry sounds of cooking, chores, and laughter echo from the kitchen at the southeast end of the cavern near the easterly passage to the rest of the lower caverns. Within the lower caverns is an entrance to the infirmary weyr to care for injured dragons and riders.

Cheni looks as if she scrubbed herself from head to foot, which she did. Pink face, pink hands, squeaky clean hair freshly braided, clean clothes and a slightly sour expression on her face speaks of her probable chore for the day, now finished.

Makran steps into the living cavern from the bowl, moving himself towards the serving tables and yawning slightly. He nods to a few of the other candidates on his way.

Cheni takes a mug of water and an apple with her and sits by the hearth, letting her braid fall down her back to dry near the heat, far enough away not to singe it but close that if you were at the right angle, you might see a little steam rise.

Makran helps himself to some klah and then moves over to the hearth. "Good afternoon, Cheni." He says, sitting down a few metres from her, but facing her. He looks at her for a moment, raising one of his eyebrows, "What've you been up to?"

Cheni finishes a bite of her apple and wipes off the juice from her chin before answering. "Chores, but done for the day. Then I went and scrubbed, then scrubbed and scrubbed again." She wrinkles her nose. "Some things I'll never get used to."

Makran nods and grins, "Like what?" He asks, "Having to share a dorm with all us good-looking male candidates or having open bathing rooms?"

Cheni rolls her eyes and chuckles. "Good looking candidates? Where? I must have missed them. And open bathing? Yes, that's hard, but the latrines. That was a punishment where I was from not a regular chore unless you were a drudge or something."

Makran chuckles aswell, "I never had to do latrines at Bitra, either." He says, "But I guess they just want us to do as much as possible before the hatching - give us experiance of stuff incase we don't impress so that we can find new jobs."

Cheni laughs. "What? As Latrine worker? No thank you, It's not something I have put as an aspiration for my life. I'll probably just head back to Braddle, I'll be glad to be warm again." She shudders. "Can you imagine anyone in their right mind wanting to do that job for the rest of their days?"

Makran shrugs, "Well, they're worse things...I guess." He says, "But it's not one of my dreams neither." He adds, grinning. "You won't stay at the Weyr?" He asks, "You'd rather go back to hoisting that fat man onto a dragon?"

Cheni wrinkles her nose. "Well that aspect of it is sort of a drawback. But then I've got home cooking and I've get to travel a lot and read, and things like that."

Makran nods again, shrugging, "Well, I think I'll probably stay here if I don't impress...instead of going back to Bitra." He says, grinning slightly.

Cheni ohs. "You like it here?" She looks around the cavern. "It's alright. I miss being outside, I'm trying to get used to the weather but it's not easy." She reaches behind to check on her hair as it dries. "Anyhow..." She looks lost for conversation.

Makran grins and nods, "Yeh...the weather's not really any different to Bitra, so..." He shrugs, "I've never really been outside this climate except once when I was at Igen...but it wasn't really a warm day then anyhow..."

Cheni ohs. "Igen? What were you doing there? But Bitra, it seemed warmer there, but then again, it was spring." Her forehead furrows as she remembers an unpleasant incident. "Seemed rather chilly in the hall."

Makran grins, "I was at this firelizard hatching..." He says, shrugging. "I don't know how, we had all the fires on that day I remember you visiting." He says, grinning. "Yeh, that was a while ago, eh?"

Cheni sniffs. "Yes, despite that, there was a definite -chill- in the air." Insert pointed look from a girl who can hold a grudge. "It was, I suppose." She admits begrudgingly. "So have you changed any around here?"

Makran grins and nods, "Yeh, my accent's a bit weaker." He says, "And I haven't lost a game of Dragon-poker since I've been here...though I've only played it like three times anyways, so..."

Cheni shakes her head. "Compared to Kassima, you don't have an accent at all and she's been at Telgar for how long? She's getting pretty up there, isn't she?" She shrugs. "I have to really concentrate when she speaks to understand her. Not that heavy an accent, anywhere I've ever been." She smirks. "Dragon-poker? No idea how to play that."

Makran grins and nods, "Want a game, then?" He asks. He takes a sip of his cold klah now, "I'm joking," he adds, "It's really quite boring to play if you can tell who's going to win...hardly any of the other candidates can hold a bluff."

Cheni quirks a brow at that. "Uh-huh. Who says a candidate can't hold a bluff." She smirks. "You'd be amazed if you knew half of what's been going on in the barracks and who is behind it."

Makran grins and nods, "What has been going on, then?" He asks, "I don't listen to gossip too much..." He comments.

Cheni bites the last of her apple and tosses the core into the fire. "Oh, nothing much." She smiles vaguely. "Heard tell that a lad who should have a lot more control has had a couple of 'accidents' in his cot, heard another found his holey socks sewn on to his tunic."

Makran grins and nods, "What've you been doing, Cheni?" He teases lightly, draining his mug and watching you expectantly.

Cheni smiles pleasantly "Me? Like I said. Chores, Latrine today Didn't we have this discussion already?" She chuckles. "Oh, right, and I don't have to mangle my robe anymore, Mirie has graciously taken pity upon me and is allowing me to use hers. She got really good at it, she stood three times until she impressed."

Makran grins and nods, "Well, now you can stand without having fingers covered in pin-pricks." He says.

Cheni actually laughs. "Or a robe that was becoming very see through, more like cheese-cloth than robe.:

Makran grins, "Now...it would be a shame not to see you wearing that," he teases.

Cheni sticks out her tongue. "Not in a thousand turns. Say, you know, it's close to turnend, sort of strange not being home, we'd have a wild wherry roast on the beach to celebrate."

Makran grins and nods, "Yeh, it is...ain't it." He says, "So..." He says, trying to think of an interesting subject but failing.

Cheni gives Makran a quizzical look, trying to read his expression. She shrugs as she takes her mug of water. "So what? Do you want to go do something or just sit here talking about not much?"

Makran grins, "So...how can you sew someones socks to their tunic but not make a hatching robe?" He asks.

Cheni splutters, caught in a mid sip. She manages to recover quickly after wiping her lips with the back of her hand. "I don't know, how can you?

Makran shrugs, "You tell me..." He says, "You seem to know all about it." He adds grinning.

Cheni laughs as she pats at her braid, making sure it's completely dry. "What? How to make holey robes? I'm getting to be quite an expert, yes." She shrugs. "And I can't imagine, that it'd be that hard to sew a sock onto a tunic, it's not like you have to follow a straight line or anything, not that I'd no much about -that-, mind you."

Makran grins and nods, "Sure you don't, Cheni..." He says, shrugging, "So it wasn't you who wet that candidate's cot, no?"

Cheni shakes her head. "No, he wet it himself, if I recall? I sleep in my own cot, no sharing cots, it's a no-no in the barracks, besides, I'm not that type of girl."

Makran grins and nods, "Sure you're not," he says, rolling his eyes. Managing to stop himself from laughing, just.

Cheni hmms. "I am not that type of girl to sleep with men, especially in a dorm with a bunch of other people in it, and for you to even suggest such a thing, well!" Incensed, she stares Makran down. "I think you owe me an apology."

"Not with men? With women then?" Makran asks, laughing lightly. After a moments pause he nods, "Yeh...sorry...Cheni." He says in between laughter. Cheni stands to her feet, and as she does, she throws the water from her mug at Makran. "You ovine!" Her face flushing red. "I've never slept with anyone outside of my sister and if you dare turn that into some sick fantasy, I'll beat you to a pulp." She slams the mug down on the table causing dishes to rattle. "You think making a boy wet his bad was bad, just keep this up and I'd be looking over my shoulder, if I were you. And sleep light with a big stick under your cot." She smiles sweetly in the midst of her anger. "Just one candidate concerned for another, mind you."

Makran scowls slightly, then laughs, grinning broadly. "Fantasy? With you? It'd be more like a nightmare, Cheni." He says, then shakes his head. "No, sorry." He says, standing and wiping his wet face with his hands. He grins again, "Thanks for the tip," he says, "Will come in handy..."

Cheni snorts and heads out of the cavern.



*** Disconnected from PernMUSH ***

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