in a grey, grey mood. (emoyan)

[glamourie]

There was very little doubt that Ka’rys had some strange hobbies. The most recent of these was construction. Building things that were productive made him feel useful. He’d been forcibly evicted from the under-construction Main Hall due to it being crowded but he still found time to help out – mainly because it gave him something to do that did not involve hunting down the remaining High Reaches riders and cutting them into little bite-sized pieces. He’d gathered an impressive amount of wood stores and, high on the cliff tops, Ka’rys had been cutting them apart to construct large wooden tables. All the existing ones were incinerated with the Main Hall, so they’d need more for people to sit at – such was his logic. He’d completed one already (although it was of lesser quality due to being ‘rusty’) and was in the process of putting together the bench that went with the second long, picnic-style table. While not the prettiest creation, it was functional, and way cheaper than hunting down a woodcrafter to do it. It also gave the woodcrafters time to focus on the bigger missing things… like the cabinets and counters that the drudges would need to cook. And bowls, pots, pans, et cetera…

Stupid S’rei. He really hadn’t thought through how big that one act of destruction was.

They needed three more tables, in addition to the two Ka’rys had made, and then a long one for the ranking riders. Then there was the project of countless bowls, cooking utensils, the fronts of cabinets… it was really a mess, and would be for quite awhile. Ka’rys pulled on the strip of fabric that he was using to measure and leaned over the slab of wood he’d been cutting, carefully marking it with a spot of ink. The afternoon sunlight made his work easier, but he was still slow; healing burns on his side helped make it required for him to take longer to get things done. His right arm and right side were burnt; in the grand scheme of things, it was minor, but it still stung if he pulled on it too much. His dragon was also burnt, and the scarring hide showed more prominently on the dozing bronze behind him. Ophelie and Merce perched on Ciceroth’s healed back, for once getting along, probably because that was what Ka’rys needed. Working on building things was therapeutic, and he welcomed the distraction from his rampant, murderous thoughts.

It was bright outside – clear skies, warmer weather, very little humidity. Some might have described it as the perfect day. The smell of smoke still hung thick in the air… or maybe it was in the back of his mind. Strange, really. Ka’rys did not think of himself as someone who lingered on trauma and he didn’t see what happened at Selenitas, to him at least, as traumatic. Still, he felt certain that he could smell fire – fire that had nothing to do with burning flesh and cloth. Ciceroth had explained that it was a memory, and many had come to him like that, in the form of senses rather than true imagery: from the feeling of incredible disdain for S’rei’s weyrmate to a fondness for Savitri, neither he could explain. He didn’t like salamandyrs and he especially disliked S’rei’s – he wasn’t sure why, though the thought continually amused his dragon (Which meant it couldn’t be a good thing). It was entirely possible that the thick smell of fire and accelerant was a similar memory, but shards if it wasn’t odd. He was trying his best not to focus on it and cutting wood made for a great distraction.

It also kept him from having to face anyone who’d been at the infirmary. Part of him felt like he’d failed them. Every injury was his responsibility because the people there were his responsibility – he’d been tasked with keeping them safe, and he hadn’t succeeded.

Damn S’rei.

[dragon]

Smoke was more than an uncomfortable reality for Emoyan. It was a very uncomfortable present affliction. The Candidate Master could swear he smelled and tasted and breathed smoke everywhere he turned. But really it was only his lungs. He'd inhaled an awful lot of it, fighting the fire in the hatching stands. As such, he was rather hard of breathing and talking anymore, prone to bouts of uncontrolled coughing. Sometimes it hurt just to breathe. The ache was deep in his chest, sometimes to the point where he couldn't concentrate at all.

Not that concentrating on his usual duties was at all easy after yet another round of violence and destruction within the Weyr. So, now more than before, Emoyan found himself out and about. Walking the Weyr. Trying to shake the dark thoughts, and trying to get away from the ever-present psychological scent of smoke. Get some fresh air to his damaged lungs. Siting in his office was the worst, where there was little airflow. He often felt he was suffocating in there.

Today's journey found him in unusual places... the river was still a stark reminder of the attack, what with the burnt out husk of the main hall tree. It lent even more dark thoughts about the only remaining tree-borne structure in the Weyr. The Candidate barracks. This was something that certainly gave Emoyan dark, worried thoughts. Was it next?

Finding Ka'rys up there, playing at being a woodcrafter, was a shock to the system and the brain. This was not something he'd expected to find, much less who, doing what. "Ka'rys?" He asked, befuddled. Well, wheezed was a better word for the gasp of air that tried to make sound as it passed his vocal chords. He certainly would not be singing any time soon, that was for sure. What was a Harper with no voice?

Emoyan came to a halt next to the table, and ran a hand down its surface before rubbing his fingertips across his thumb. Woodworking ... it was not something Emoyan had ever tried. Well ... other than the occasional stint at instrument making. But that was a whole other clump of thread. Tables? Benches? Nah. "What possessed you to try this? Much less here?" He asked, doing his best to not gasp like a fish out of water in the process. Emoyan assumed that maybe he was going to have a dragon move the finished product from the current location, to wherever the new hall was going to be.

That was a tidbit he didn't have yet, as he'd been making do with the stuff stashed in his office. Staying out of the way. Especially considering that any kind of fast movement on his part usually ended with his vision going dark and/or his passing out from lack of air. Keeping out of the way was a good idea.

[glamourie]

Hmm. His name. Ka’rys blinked twice at the sound of someone speaking to him, not quite turning around, and cocked his head to the side toward the sound. He recognized the voice, though it took his mind a moment to process who it was. He’d been… avoiding Emoyan of sorts; it was strange to imagine talking to someone who’d been a Weyrlingrider with him and had lost his dragon. The very idea of losing Ciceroth was mortifying enough to him that he knew instinctively that no matter what happened, he would not be able to bear the loss; it would probably kill him instantly. People being able to survive the loss of their dragons was disquieting, and some part of him felt oddly guilty – therefore, he didn’t talk to Roivao or Emoyan much, if it could be helped; he just didn’t know what to say, and he couldn’t remember how he’d reacted to Emoyan before. Ciceroth liked – or, rather, tolerated – Emoyan well enough; he saw him as his. But Ciceroth wasn’t awake to help him. Maybe if he didn’t answer…? That was childish. It was awkward though.

The question was at least one he could answer. Slowly turning to look over his shoulder, Ka’rys lifted one hand to indicate assorted supplies: bowls of hinges, jars of screws, two different types of saws, a jar of nails, hammer, sandpaper, measuring sticks and tapes, wood varnish, and pieces of wood. It all looked like quite the impressive little workshop, which was unsurprising considering Ka’rys had been using it for the past few weeks religiously. Every day, he came and worked on things. Everyone had their hobbies, their triggers, for what made them relax and feel better, and one of his was being constructive. Fixing things or getting things done always felt satisfying to the bronzerider – like he was making a difference. And Selenitas needed as much help as they could get.

“I like woodworking. It’s relaxing. I’ve been doing it since I was a child.” He probably should have considered adopting it as a craft, but he was a weyrbrat, and like most weyrbrats, he’d had one occupation in mind his entire life: becoming a dragonrider. He’d succeeded at sixteen and never looked back. Just the same, as a child, Ka’rys had learned a little of this and that in every craft imaginable to occupy his time. The ones he was best at were Woodcrafting and Harpercraft. Of the two, he favored woodcrafting – he could sing, but he wouldn’t let anyone hear him. Call it embarrassment: he didn’t want people to realize he could seem. It seemed oddly soft, and that hesitancy to show any kind of weakness hadn’t gone away with age, even if many of Ka’rys’s more primal neurotic tendencies had. “The new Main Hall is going to need a lot of rebuilding, and the woodcrafters are working on cabinets and countertops – I figured it’d be good to take advantage of the free time I have to work on things they don’t have time to work on, like tables. As for why here – I’ve set it up like my own little workshop. No one comes up here, usually, so it’s a convenient place to work. Good light.”

Setting his measuring strip aside, Ka’rys turned and scrunched his nose slightly. His gaze flicked over Emoyan questioningly, before he asked, “Did you need help with something?” From atop Ciceroth, Merce stirred, and the bronzerider glanced at him in interest, though the salamandyr immediately flopped over. Not his Mysterylove, just her twin’s slavething, pfft. “Or are you just wandering aimlessly in search of something interesting to do?” There was a very light lilt in his voice – teasing, almost – as he said that. “I do that. If you’re bored, you can help me here. I could use it, apparently I’m terrible at measuring…”

[dragon]

Emoyan's gaze flicked toward the tools indicated. But that was hardly of interest. The comment that followed, however, was. "Oh. I didn't know that. Somehow, you apparently managed to hide that little fact very well. At least ... from me." Emoyan commented with a wry twist to his lips. Sliding downward onto one of the benches, he gave it a test sit. For a moment he just sat there, and then he nodded. "Good."

"Good light." Emoyan repeated, softly, actually managing to sound more like his normal self. It probably helped a lot that he was seated now, and no longer wandering around and taxing his beleaguered lungs with the effort. "I can agree with that sentiment, I think." He, too, glanced at the mandyr up there on Ciceroth's back, but the tiny scrap of a lizard didn't hold his attention either. Instead, he leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table before him, clasping his hands together.

"Me? No. Not that I'm aware of anyway, I was just ... walking. Getting out. Getting some air. It gets hard to breathe, of late, in my office. So when I can ..." He shrugged loosely instead of finishing the sentence. Ka'rys' admission to being lousy at measuring started a laughing fit that subsequently started a coughing fit. Grinning his fool head off, Emoyan shook his head slowly. "I can't imagine that." He answered, wheezing. "You? Bad at measuring? After all this you've already turned out?" A hand was opened palm up to indicate the furniture already made. "You have got to be pulling my leg." Pushing back to his feet, Emoyan walked over to where Ka'rys was currently working. "Sure, I'll help. What is it you need measured?" He striaghtened a bit and cast a sideways glace at Ka'rys. "Not you, I warrant. You don't look like you've grown a bit." he teased, light-heartedly.

[glamourie]

Had they been particularly close? It was tempting to ask (Ciceroth being asleep was massively inconvenient, curses), but Ka’rys thought the question… rude. He didn’t want to alienate anyone (unintentionally), even though he was good at it. He couldn’t imagine himself actively hiding that he was fond of woodcrafting from anyone. It wasn’t something that he was ashamed of – although he wasn’t vocal about anything he liked much. Actually, Ka’rys wasn’t vocal, period. It was more normal to find him alone, in all honesty. He didn’t see a reason to talk when others were around unless they spoke to him first, and he usually didn’t fret small talk. Companionable silence was better than sitting around trying to talk when he wasn’t very good at it – period. His gaze went back to the wood in front of him, anxious. He didn’t really know how to respond. Had he and Emoyan been friends? Ka’rys didn’t have very many of those; he never had. If they were friends, it was odd for Emoyan not to know. If they weren’t friends, it was odd for Emoyan to think they were. So strange. He decided not to think on it so much, instead shrugging slightly.

“Fresh air is good,” he explained with a slight nod. “Candidate barracks are probably stuffy. You should talk to S’rei about having them moved into the cliff face to secure them. Considering that they’re still in a tree, they’re not really secure, and I don’t think he’d be opposed to it since we’re already employing stonecrafters for the Main Hall.” It was Ka’rys’s opinion that leaving the ‘dummy’ tree up would actually be a good way to draw potential attacks, too, but his primary concern was with security: he’d seen that the infirmary lasted fairly well, especially in comparison to the Main Hall (that got blown up by their side), and it was absolutely necessary for them to do something about the last tree-based structure in the Weyr. The sooner, the better. In fact, he likely would’ve talked to the Weyrleader about it himself, if not for the simple fact that it was more Emoyan’s place than his. He wasn’t the candidate master, after all. “Though I suppose being in the canyon won’t do much for stuffiness, but at least it’s safer than being surrounded by wood.”

As he spoke, he handed the measuring strip to Emoyan and gestured to the wood in front of him. “I’ve made quite a bit, yes, but I also cut the last piece too short. This one needs to be the same length as that other bench, and I can’t seem to reach that far. My winged helper went to sleep.” Not that Ciceroth was particularly useful, aside from conversation, but that was pretty much irrelevant. What mattered was that Emoyan was apparently willing to help – which would make his work go by much faster, as far as Ka’rys was concerned. That was providing that nothing insane happened in the meantime to distract him. As for his height? The bronzerider crinkled his nose and shrugged, “I can’t help it that people like the two Smiths and the Weyrleader have decided to have a monopoly on height. Those of us who got left out in the genetic distribution make do with what we have. We’re complimented by being far more intelligent – as I’m sure the brownrider on my wing would agree with.” Tch. Mountain men. He was faster than they were, so in the end he was sure that he could take them out… unless they decided to, you know, sit on him. He was muscular but they weren’t…. normal sized. S’rei was, but he was bitter about the height.

Yes, Ka’rys had a height complex. No, he wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

[dragon]

Ka'rys was being unusually silent while apparently doing a whole lot of brain-churning. Emoyan almost fancied he could see smoke coming out of the bronzerider's ears. He was aware that Ka'rys was missing a few turns of his past ... but just how extensive was it? Emoyan didn't know. It wasn't too bad - Ka'rys recognized him. And apparently remembered that Kindrith was gone. Without outright asking, it was hard to tell where the memories stopped, where they were fuzzy, and where they were gone. And even asking .. not the most tactful thing to do, and would Ka'rys even know? There really was no telling. So, to try and make things a little easier, Emoyan did the only thing he could do: "If there's something you want to know, all you have to do is ask." He offered. It was a sincere offer, but one easily slid around if it was one that Ka'rys wasn't comfortable with. Obviously, he could only say what he knew. The rest of it? He couldn't help with that.

"I actually do intend to do that." He had more to say, but he kept his remarks short - otherwise it started to hurt. The last thing he wanted to do was aggravate his situation. "Especially since it's the last place in a tree." Again, he paused, waiting for his damaged lungs to keep up with the demands his body made. "Makes it feel like a prime target, like a sore thumb." Shards, but he wished he hadn't breathed so much smoke. "I am thinking of requesting alternate entrances, too... so it won't be a trap. Sortof like the weyrling barracks are." Granted, candidates weren't as much of a target as weyrlings were - but they were still valuable individuals. Spirit them away, and stuff them onto alternate sands to impress and control. It was not something he wanted for his students. A bolt hole was definitely something he wanted to have in there, if his request of the move was granted. Which ... who knew? It might not. Emoyan didn't know S'rei that well. Ka'rys knew him far better. "Do you think S'rei would do it?" Emoyan asked, looking for input. Even if Ka'rys was missing bits, maybe he knew S'rei well enough to guess.

He shook out the knotted line for measuring, and strung it out between his hands, eying it. The knots appeared even, which was good. Walking to one end of the board, he hooked the big knot at the end on the wood where it would stay before walking back toward the other end keeping the string taught so it would stay. "What are we measuring for?" He asked, not knowing what the desired length was. He allowed the matter of people's height to drop - he'd only been teasing and didn't want to irritate Ka'rys. That, and he didn't want to point out how he himself was not a short individual. Granted, he was no where near as tall as quite a few of those huge fellows, but he wasn't short like Ka'rys either. "Table, or bench?" If he was going to help do this, he might as well know what in the world it was he was helping to make. Right?

[glamourie]

It was a nice offer. Really, it was, and Ka’rys did appreciate it. The problem was that he knew he was exceptionally good at offending people. He wasn’t exactly attuned with people’s emotions (haha) but he was definitely intelligent enough to deduce when someone was offended and when they weren’t. And he knew very well that without trying, he brushed people’s nerves. If he and Emoyan had been friends, telling him that the only memories he had of the candidate master were from when they were weyrlings together (since he hadn’t been placed on a specific wing) might’ve been more than a little upsetting. The last thing that he wanted was to metaphorically pour salt into what seemed as though it was very much an open wound. Consideration wasn’t his strong point but he was trying, however awkwardly. He let his gratitude show by flashing Emoyan as pleasant a smile as he could muster up (and it looked decidedly strange on his features, since smiles and Ka’rys were almost two opposing things) before going back to work.

“Alternate entrances would be good, though it’d be better if there were more secretive exits. Having fewer entrances actually worked to the advantage of the infirmary this time around: we knew what to protect to keep people safe. In the interest of safety, it’d probably be best to have only one primary entrance, and then a second one that is hidden away – maybe from behind the bunks and opens into some other room, like the new Main Hall or the infirmary. Setting them nearby in locations could be useful. I’m all in favor of interior tunnels either way; I like the possibility of our people having places to hide where foreigners can’t reach them.”

Hadn’t he just said that he thought S’rei would be more than willing to move the candidate barracks? Perhaps the candidate master wasn’t listening. He wouldn’t have been surprised. Many of the people who ‘knew’ him seemed uncomfortable – as if they didn’t quite know what to make of Ka’rys since his memory was damaged. It’d been months. He was actually starting to remember details, albeit in a foggy manner. Feelings came back more prominently than anything else, but feelings were a step in the right direction. He didn’t really know what he thought of Emoyan though – just familiar. He strongly suspected, between everything else, that his rambling thoughts were dismissed. He didn’t mind repeating himself though (for once), because it obviously meant quite a bit to Emoyan for him to have brought it up in the first place.

“I think S’rei wants to see Selenitas safe, and the candidates are part of the heart of Selenitas. So yes, I think he’ll be more than happy to move the barracks somewhere more productive and safe; the only reason he hasn’t brought it up yet, I’m sure, is that his mind is occupied with other things. His weyrmate’s pregnant, and he’s got half a weyr to rebuild, wings to reorganize, things like that. Corner him and suggest it. He’ll probably be glad you took the initiative to do so.” Ka’rys didn’t really know S’rei that well – all things considered – but he was pretty sure that he was right. Generally he was an okay judge of people, and he didn’t think that the Weyrleader, no matter how rocky his past was, wanted to see Selenitas suffer. He’d seemed genuinely perturbed by the attack, so Ka’rys was betting that he was right. “I’d offer to talk to him for you, but conversations with S’rei frequently make me want to pry part of my brain out and then start eating it. Minimal contact works better for the both of us.”

Indicating the wood, the bronzerider gave a slight nod. “Both. Specifically, we’re making the bench for a table,” he said and gestured roughly ahead. “Over to the side there is the top of the table itself, if you need to compare.”

[dragon]

"Good idea." Emoyan answered, allowing Ka'rys' rather awkward looking smile slide to the wayside without much of a mention. He knew as well as anyone else did that Ka'rys had issues with expressing such things. Thus he was aware that Ka'rys would be more comfortable if it just slid by the way side, without comment. Faranth knew, Emoyan especially, that getting Ka'rys' feathers ruffled was not a good idea. No matter the topic. "I suppose I should do that, whenever I have time and he doesn't seem terribly occupied at the same time."

As important as it was to Emoyan to get his kids out of that firetrap of a tree, he still wasn't going to try to run down and corner a stressed out bronzerider that towered over him. Be his luck he'd get his nose broken for his efforts. Emoyan was no little guy himself, but he tended to think he had a bit more tact than that. Wait a bit - as recent as the last attack was, there was likely to be a good lull before the next one. Once there was less stress around, more things rebuilt and off the worried mind - then Emoyan might approach S'rei with the proposal. It was easier to get a yes that way.

"Only half?" Emoyan asked, with a small chuckle. "Things have improved, I daresay." It was partially teasing again, but he did shake out the string again to make sure it didn't get tangled. Moving over toward the finished pieces, he ran a few quick measures, making mental notes of the numbers he counted. It was easy for him to do - music was math, sometimes simple, sometimes complex. Doing simple counting math was no bother to the Harper. Thus, he scrounged around until he managed to locate Ka'rys' writing stick before stringing the measuring twine again, and marking boards for the bronzerider to cut. All of them more or less accurate to what needed to be done. After small tic marks were made, he found a more or less straight edged short piece to lengthen the marks all the way across, making them easy and accurate cuts.

It was too bad Rascal or Skink weren't around. Having a critter hanging onto the far end would make the string measuring easier. If, of course, they held it where it was supposed to be. Rascal could probably manage it, the brown was fairly level headed - if he wasn't busily chasing after Skink.

[glamourie]

Ka’rys bobbed his head slightly. He didn’t really know how ‘good’ the idea was, to be honest… that was one of the functions of the new wing – to have people who could find the things out that he didn’t know. He had a plan to actually inquire of a couple different people on the wing toward that end – and Ka’rys strongly suspected he’d be able to give S’rei more concrete suggestions once he got to know the strengths and weaknesses of his wing members. Unfortunately, as it was, he didn’t trust any of their judgment as far as he could throw them. Too many of them were arrogant and thought only of themselves. Even those who were on his wing before had to prove themselves again, as far as Ka’rys was concerned, and he intended to push them all very, very hard. He didn’t want to be accused of favoritism and he honestly wanted to assess the abilities of everyone on his wing. Going easy wouldn’t allow him to do that. He pushed that thought from his mind.

He went back to work on his piece of wood, adjusting the saw accordingly. Once Emoyan gave him measurements, he’d cut and get back to putting the table together. It’d be a fairly nice one, he supposed. Better than some, since he had help with the measuring. He wasn’t a woodcrafter (by far) but he was good enough to make practical things when needed.

“Ask him when you see him, Emoyan. If you dawdle and wait for S’rei’s workload to lessen, you’ll never get it done. He won’t mind you telling him you think it needs to be done – like I said, he’ll probably appreciate you drawing his attention to it since he’s otherwise occupied. It’s not like the candidate barracks are something minor to bother him with – they’re actually pretty major and need to be dealt with promptly.” He almost tacked on ‘No need to be skittish’ but stopped himself. He could see why some people found S’rei intimidating. He had, after all, when he first woke up… but that faded into basic intolerance for the most part. He didn’t spend much time around the Weyrleader if it could be helped and he had little desire to change that. Still, he was pretty sure S’rei wouldn’t mind a realistic request being made of him because it was only sensible for Emoyan to bring it up while construction was under way; sooner was better, as it meant they could schedule things easier. Practical to a fault was Ka’rys.

Pushing his hair from his face, he leaned forward and examined the wood more thoroughly. “Things have improved, yes, but Selenitas is still a mess.” He didn’t believe Selenitas would be “fixed” any time soon though. The problems they had were more severe than simply the damage done by Fort. The problem was inherently Selenitas. They didn’t defend themselves. The Southerners were too soft – spare them, move on – too kind and it came back to haunt them constantly. Selenitas needed a reality check and that was more than simply rebuilding could provide. It was something that would take… take something bigger. They were all-too-willing to forgive and forget. The thought made him narrow his eyes on the wood, anger flashing in the dark brown orbs. Too many lives lost and they just forgave. Disgusting. They needed to embolden themselves and accept that the war was on their doorstep. Plain and simple. But it wasn’t something that words would teach them… unfortunately.