A Very Busy Day (Candidate Group I August Chores)

[Ember]

Ferneth had went straight from the candidate barracks to the main hall, already tired out from the day's events. Searched, brought to Selenitas weyr, his meeting with Mutasim, and now chores. Not that he minded the work. Someone had to do it, and Ferneth wouldn't have to do chores after he Impressed a dragon. Being the holdbred young man he was, he didn't know much about Impression either. He knew that some people never did or that some stood for several clutches before Impressing.

Ferneth mentally shrugged off his thoughts as he entered the dining hall. What a smell! He'd noticed a fine aroma as he got closer, but the smell fairly doubled when he entered the large room. He figured that the cooks were preparing the day's dinner. Ferneth noticed a few people already in the dining hall. Riders, weyrfolk, a couple of candidates but there were a lot less around than he had thought. He made his way to the kitchen to find the headwoman.

Upon entering Ferneth noticed a lot of chopping, cooking, and bustling about. Chopping. Knives. Can't hurt to ask about Mutasim while I'm working. Northerners are really different from southerners like me... He felt idle just looking around so he went up to one woman turning the spit a herdbeast was on. "Excuse me, do you know where the headwoman is?" He asked. She looked him over, obviously sizing him up. "Candidate?" Ferneth nodded, wondering why it mattered to the woman. "Alright, there's enough on cooking so you go take orders and bring it out okay?" Before he could ask any questions she shoved a tray at him and pushed him towards the exit of the kitchen.

"It could be worse," Ferneth mused aloud, "I could be making the food. Faranth knows I'd poison someone." In his home his mother and sisters did the cooking while the men tended the fields or the animals. He had no idea what would happen if he tried to cook. Eventually he'd give it try. Maybe on something simpler than a herdbeast. Ferneth took a couple of orders, warning them that they may have to wait a bit for the main meal, before heading back to the kitchen.

Returning shortly with some soup and bread Ferneth set them on one table with a pair of dragonriders before returning for another order. It was still too earlier for the dinner rush so he could relax a bit between orders and chat with some of the people before another order would need to be taken. It was a pretty simple job so far.

[flupine]

Derrin was suppose to be doing chores in the Records room but he really just could not make himself stay in that stuffy room. really, just a few silents candidates and some dusty old records and everytime he so much as breathed too heavy he received dirty looks. This would not have been so bad for most people but Derrin was not most people, Derrin was clumsy, antsy and noisy. He could hardly keep still and in a room where every sounds and flutter seemed magnified, things were not looking good for poor Derrin. His leg could not help but bounce in agitation, his hand could not help but knock over a bottle of ink, and of course he would start to hiccup when he desperately wanted to remain silent. The hiccups were what did it for the others in the Record Room. They simply couldn't tale Derrin's quiet chirping hiccups.

Now, Derrin sat in the Dining Hall, with the papers all spread out in front of him, prepared to be copied, sorted or whatever else Derrin could figure out to do with the papers. Anything that would keep his hands busy and make Derrin feel as if he was actually helping somehow. And Derrin liked to feel as if he were helping, whether he actually did or not was highly questionable.

Derrin leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh, his hands running worrisome through his hair, what was he suppose to do now? Derrin looked down rather helplessly at the papers, his mind stuck. What was he suppose to be doing, copying them? That made no sense, why was he copying some old records, they were just going to make new ones of recent history why must they continuously recopy the old ones? It did not make a lot of sense to Derrin but then, a great many things did not make sense. Yet again, forcing his gaze down to the papers, Derrin picked up his ink pen to copy with and managed to do fairly well until he realized that he had yet again strayed off track, his mind wandering. Derrin couldn't help it that his mind would not stay put!

He tried to concentrate again and set his ink pen down to the parchment to write on when he felt the table bump. Oh no! Horrified, he watch the ink stain spread uncontrollably across the table and finally reaching the paper and more sheets flutter to the ground. Oh Shards! He was not sure if he should try to pick up the turned over ink jar or reach for the papers that were sure to be stepped on. By Faranth, why were these things ALWAYS happening to him?!!! Derrin could almost wail with the unfairness of it all.

[Ember]

Ferneth was waved over by one man at a table. He wasn't a dragonrider, so he must have been weyrfolk. He quickly took his order and returned to the kitchen. So far the hardest part of the chore was actually carrying the things out to people. He returned with the man's food and placed it on the table. Ferneth would have stayed to chat a bit but the man grumpily dismissed him. Well you're welcome I brought your food, he thought dryly. He certainly didn't get many thanks from people. He was about to head back to the kitchen to wait but he noticed someone sitting alone at a table.

Curiously Ferneth wandered over to see if they wanted to eat or if they were just hanging around. It seemed like they was writing something. Ferneth almost thought it might be a woman sitting at the table but as he got closer he realized it was a guy. This made him pause for a moment. During that one moment someone must have passed by and brushed against the table because there were sheets on the ground and the man seemed rather distressed.

Ferneth approached and picked up the fallen papers and set the ink jar upright. "Well this is a nice mess," he joked and offered Derrin the papers. "Hopefully none got on you? I have a cloth with me so we'll clean this right up. What were you doing with those anyways?" He pulled the clotch that he'd tucked under his belt when he first started working in the kitchen. He had discovered some people could be really sloppy eaters. He carefully wiped up the ink and the ink jar.

Satisfied with his work the tan candidate looked at Derrin and grinned. "Happens to everyone eventually. Did anything important get damaged?" He noticed some other people enter the dining hall but he knew one of the other candidates could look after them. Right now this poor guy needed his help more than some ungrateful, hungry people.

[ladybug]

Rilyer was surprised at how much was expected of candidates. Having been raised in a Minehold, he was used to hard work. But somehow, he had gotten an idea in his mind that every last weyrfolk had a pampered and privileged lifestyle. Now he realized that was silly. Someone had to do the dirty work, and in this case, it was candidates. At least he just had dining hall duty. It could have been worse, cleaning out the latrines or something.

He sniffed at the aromatic air as he entered the kitchen, his stomach grumbling. He was going to be really hungry after this chore. He approached the Headwoman, and she gave him the same chore as Ferneth, taking orders out to the weyrfolk in the dining room. As a group of people came in, Ril hurried to take their order, a charming grin on his face. "What'll it be?" He asked, one hand on his hip. Noticing that one of the men, with blue rider knots, was kind of cute, he winked. The man scowled as the others barked out their orders.

Dismayed, Rilyer hurried away to get the food. He thought everyone in the Weyr was supposed to be really open to everything. He had been looking forward to some good flirting. Ah well...maybe it was just that one guy. On the way to the kitchen, he spotted another candidate talking to one of the weyrfolk. "Shouldn't you be working?" He called to Ferneth, half-teasing, half-serious.

[Ruby]

This was easy, Piden thought. Chopping some cooked tubers and putting them on plates was WAY better than digging them out of the ground for hours every day in the sun. At least here he got to sit on a stool, not crouch in the dirt all day. Still, he was pretty jealous of the boys that got to be on... Tray Duty, or whatever, the ones that were carrying trays in and out of the dining hall. Hitting on the Headwoman had probably been a bad idea- she had just looked down her nose at him, and assigned him to a corner. At least it was kind of near the door, and he DID get the occasional interaction with the tray-carriers.

That, and he got a view out into the dining hall, so he could at least live vicariously through his luckier fellow Candidates. He had been watching a brownish/blondish boy who he thought he recognized... R-something... serve C'le, the Bluerider who had plucked Piden out of the stupid farmland outside of Selenitas Hold. C'le was about as responsive to R-candidate as he had been to Piden at first. All the other Candidate really needed to do was keep pressing C'le, if he was interested, but oh well. It looked like he was in a bad mood. Piden, however, made a mental note to flag the other Candidate down next time he came into the kitchen, and ask his name. He seemed friendly.

Piden couldn't stop himself from letting out a little huffing, angry noise when the Candidate stopped to talk to two other boys Piden recognized, one who had apparently spilled ink all over something he was writing. Poor kid, Piden thought, slicing another tuber precicely down the middle just to prove his mental point. Maybe Piden could duck out for a minute or two, bring him some food or something... just to have an excuse to talk to someone, and move from this infernal corner. Not yet, though.

[flupine]

Derrin smiled pitifully up at the boy when he was handed the mess of papers from the floor, sniffing up the tears that wanted to fall. Today was not his day but at least there were some nice people here. But even his smile wobbled as the boy wiped up the ink from the table. This was such a pitiful state of affairs that even a cloth could not fix. Some of the papers were ruined and there would be no way that he would be able to read and copy them. It was a giant ink stained paper. Reaching out stiff fingers he picked up on particular sheet off the table to stare at it hopelessly while drops of ink slowly dripped one by one onto the table. Useless.

Looking up at the boy, Derrin smiled beautifully if teary-eyed at him. Thanks for helping. Sniff sniff. It seems to happen more to me than others however...no matter how I try. Another sniff. I was tryign to do my chores. I got record duty but the only people in there are silent and they thought I made too much noise. But I didn't even talk though! Oh dear. Was he wailing now? So I came here and now it's a mess. I can't help but want to talk to people but I didn't mean to make a mess and now. Uh-oh. Derrin's breathe sucked in wildly. The Headwoman! His voice squeaked on the word. Oh no... What if she saw this mess? He would be devastated... because then she would come yell at him and then not only he would get in trouble but so would... what was his name?

Cut short on envisioning the Headwoman strangling him, Derrin blinked back into the present moment. Looking at the helpful boy, Derrin blessed him with another beautiful smile. What's your name? I'm Derrin by the way and I can't possibly thank you if... Another cut off. Poor Derrin was not ever going to get to finish a thought because yet again his train of thought was thrown off, this time by an intruder. Well an intruder to Derrin. Because Derrin did not think his 'little joke' was quite so funny. In fact Derrin thought it was quite rude. The nerve of the boy. Here.... what's his name was helping him pick the mess up and this kid was over their yelling at what's his name to get back to work. He was helping...that was better than working! Jumping up and managing to scatter more papers across the table, Derrin yelled out in the Dining Hall.

"He is working! He clearly is wiping up and table and he's helping, what's more. More than what your doing, wandering around the Dining hall. I had an accident, which is apparently a reason to punish someone around here. Why don't you actually do something like help someone? It might make you nicer and the people can stand in line and get their food if they're THAT hungry. Sharding wherry... "

Derrin's rambling had obviously gotten off-track and into some self-deprecating, blaming fest of confusion. Who knew with Derrin, his thoughts might be nice, he was trying to defend what's his name, after all but the words came out a bit tangled. One could hope the message got across though.

Swining his head to look at the boy his eyes squinted at him. And he was still pretty looking. Weirdo. What IS your name?

[Ember]

Ferneth was glad to see Derrin could muster up a smile but he could only grimace in sympathy. Some of those pages were ruined, no matter how you looked at the situation. It could be worse I guess.... Ferneth thought sadly. Not to mention the fact that the person he was helping made him question his orientation ever so slightly. He was certain they were a guy but they looked...pretty!

The man's sniffling explanation of what he'd been doing left Ferneth wishing there was something he could do to help, but what could be done about the giant ink stains on some of the pages? He couldn't ask the Headwoman for assistance because Derrin seemed terrified at the thought of the woman. What was worse was that Derrin insisted on giving him those smiles that made Ferneth want to help more. It was kind of like the feeling of wanting to help a little brother.

Ferneth was asked his name but, before he even got to reply, one of the other candidates on serving duty called out to him. He did feel a bit guilty that he wasn't doing as he was told but the man he'd been helping was quick to stand up for him. Ferneth was surprised at his savior of sorts. He smiled in amusement at what was being said. That was bound to get anyone off his back for stopping to help.

They were back on the topic of Ferneth's name and the tall lad gladly gave it to Derrin. "My name's Ferneth. Looks like I need to be thanking you now," the candidate said. "While I'm here I might as well ask if you want anything to eat. Are you hungry at all?"