Logs:In the Weyrling Barracks

In the Weyrling Barracks
RL Date: 15 March, 2013
Who: Alida, Athimeroth, C'wlin, Cailluneth, D'kan, Ghislaith, Ilicaeth, Jhorinth, K'zin, Kazavoth, Lina, N'hax, N'ky, Rasavyth, Sabella, Solith, Telavi
Involves: High Reaches Weyr
Type: Log
What: After Impression, there's feeding and oiling to be done.
Where: Weyrling Barracks, High Reaches Weyr
When: Day 1, Month 4, Turn 31 (Interval 10)






The barracks are a controlled chaos. Everything has been laid out in preparation for hungry baby dragons: there is not only chopped meat in buckets, but there are weyrlingmasters quick to distribute the bounty as the new pairs come stumbling off the sands. There's a full bucket for refills in the center of the barracks, and next to it is a container of oil. Paddles and individual buckets await the new weyrlings pairs for after they've sated their hatching hunger. Lina is among the assistant weyrlingmasters stationed in the barracks, under green Aryeth's watchful faze. Though the greenrider isn't the fastest, she's quick enough today to grab a bucket for the newly arriving pairs as she takes over from Quinlys. "Easy, now, come along with me. There's plenty of food. I expect he's hungry? C'wlin, is that correct? I wasn't sure if I'd heard." The sense of Athimeroth in your head is more like a constant pressure than anything, pressing against your skull with a heavy weight that also bears a sensation: a rumbling in your stomach that grows to ravenous proportions. (to C'wlin) C'wlin comes from one chaos to another, wiping sweat-dampened hair from his forehead. A frown blooms between his brows, though it's more in concentration than any upset. "Hungry." He pauses, and makes a beeline for Lina. "Yes, C'wlin and yes, hungry." Beat. "Seriously hungry." The (new!) bronzerider sneaks peeks at Athimeroth. Is he real? Dreaming? Having made his sentiments very clear to C'wlin already, Athimeroth perhaps feels it's beneath him to strain towards the scent of the meat, as tempting as it may well be. He is very, very real. And very, very impatient. Whirling eyes regard his rider pointedly: why is he just staring, and not getting him food? C'wlin has entered unknown territory without the comfort of his craft and its rules to lean on. "Um." Now he sneaks looks to Lina -- is she watching? -- then to the bronze. "Aren't you hungry?" Seeing how Athimeroth has made it clear that he is not deigned to dig into the bucket, C'wlin leans over and plucks up a hefty hunk of meat and holds it out. "Here, Athimeroth. It's yours. Yours." The way he says it, it could really be mine. Ownership, sealed. If dragons could roll their eyes, it's very possible that Athimeroth would do so right now. This one is clearly going to take some training. When C'wlin finally offers up the meat, it practically disappears immediately with the speed with which the bronze devours it, then looks expectantly. Lina had moved over to welcome a green pair off the sands, but she's back just quickly enough to catch C'wlin's look. She backtracks a few paces to ask,, "It takes some of them a moment to get the feel for it. Don't worry. See? Make sure he remembers to chew." To C'wlin, Athimeroth's gust of wind flows over you, straightforwardedly. Demandingly. « More. » C'wlin sees how it's going to be now. "Uh-huh," he says after Lina's come to their aid, "Did you hear that? Remember to ch--" Words are cut off as if the new bronzerider were standing in a gust. "I'm going, I'm going." More meat is grabbed -- this time, he loads himself up with it, not minding at all that meat juice is getting all over his robe -- and he starts feeding more of it to Athimeroth. "Chew." Lina's laugh is soft and genuine. "There, you see. Sing out if you need anything." And then she's moving on to take the handoff from Quinlys and to greet Alida with a bucket of her own. "Congratulations, he's lovely. Here, we've meat and oil. Go ahead and join the rest of your class, alright? Alida, right?" Young Ilicath promptly abandons his Alida, if only physically: another bump of his muzzle, against her knee this time, and he's bounding for the nearest bucket of blood-smell like he'd eat the whole thing up. Without her. She's shocked, alright, but finally it's that harsh bump against her knee that triggers the former-guard into action, her white-clad form launching right by Lina's and after her new partner in order that she can protect him and others from his urgency. "Ilicath!" is barked out like a drill instructor... though the sound is laden not only with command, but with pleading, fear, and wonder. Instinctively Ilicath turns at the sound of his name, less the command than the rest of it... and that momentum leads to scrabbling claws and skidding until at last he crashes to a stop. Against... something. He hasn't looked to see what. He pulses hunger at her, more sheer ravenousness than anything like a word. "Alida," C'wlin looks up, the first flurry of Impression's shock finally leaving him enough that he's regained some of his cool. So if he looks surprised, well, it's Alida. Then Waki--er--K'zin. "Wakizian, too." More meat is shuffled to Athimeroth, feeding the incredible hunger. "Congratulations." Distracted? Nah, still not quite the cool cucumber he's pretending to be. A blank look is offered C'wlin by Athimeroth. Chew? That takes far to much time, and this way is much more efficient -- as another chunk of meat fairly disappears the second it's offered. See? No problems at all. Really. "... no rush, there's plenty to go around, I promise." Lina isn't quite laughing at Alida, but her smile is terribly broad. Instead of chasing after the new pair, she turns to intercept K'zin. "Here, congratulations. He must be hungry-- have some meat." She offers her bucket, then adds, "Go ahead and join your new wingmates." C'wlin is stern, holding the meat upwards. "Chew." No chew, no bueno! Rasavyth shuffles his wings against his back, stretching... but mostly, just focusing his attention on his K'zin, and the smell of this-- what is this? This thing he can smell? Hey. Does he get some? Well. The nerve. Still, it seems Athimeroth's hunger overrides any other wishes, and C'wlin's sternness is eventually awarded with a concessionary -- if grudging -- chew of the bronze's maw. (even) Whoever, whatever Ilicath's crashed into is of little concern to Alida...unless it's screaming with broken bones or something similar. The blonde skids to her own halt just before the blue, immediately running her capable hands all over his hide while barking out to Lina, "Food!", the Parsian woman's body and mind trying to do ten things at once as it twists around to look for food for her ravenous lifemate while also claiming him close to her. "K'zin, huh?" Wakizian asks Rasavyth, grinning, "No, W'ki or Z'ian? Oh, I guess there's already one of those." He babbles at the dragon, then he's distracted by what's caught the dragon's attention. "Oh! That's food." The word is said with great reverence. "I can't wait to show you. Food is..." He doesn't know how to put into words his love for the stuff, but the feeling is certainly shared. Then he's hurrying to grab a bucket and offers a hunk of the stuff to Rasavyth. C'wlin looks to Alida then Ilicath, then to Athimeroth, and whispers, "Thank Faranth." For his dignity? Yes. Seeing the chewing resumes the slow feeding, the bronzerider keeping a sharp eye on the young bronze's penchant for chewing. "K'zin?" Distracted by Wakizian's rambling, gaze falls to the other's lifemate. "I like it." But attention? Totally back on Athimeroth. Feeeeeeeed. Lina's limp makes her slow, but she's still nothing but cool calm in the face of Alida's panic. "Easy, easy," she offers. "There's buckets right here." She does, in fact, pick one up to offer to the new blue weyrling. "Plenty to go around. I'm sure he's hungry, but make sure he doesn't gorge too quickly." And if it's screaming with broken bones, why, Ilicath may just have to eat it. He'll let Alida touch him, all right, may even welcome how she gets the sand off him and his glorious, glorious wings that he, so far, hasn't so much as looked at... but then he's dipping his head into one of the other hatchlings' buckets. After all, nobody told him they shouldn't 'share.' What could possibly be more important than Athimeroth? Nothing! Certainly not those other dragons, not when his stomach is still rumbling so audibly. Still, it's something to be taken advantage of, and any time C'wlin's attention strays even for a moment, the bronze makes a snap and a quick swallow of the next chunk of meat. The owlish look once upon the stunned Alida's features is gone, replaced by something more predatory and knife-edged as the blonde feels her link to Ilicath sharpen, flow all through her. With the blue's skid and crash into whatever it was comes a sudden sucking in of her breath and a reactive grasping at her own body in "OW!" Pain. That's why those hands still run all over the crazy blue, even as he's pilfering someone else's meat, the now wide-eyed but mostly-there guard nodding tersely at Lina, then jerking back around to pull the pail away from Ilicath and inform him in only slightly shaky tones, "Slow down." One bite at a time, tiger! And she'll feed him that, too, unless he takes her hand off. As for other dragons and their newly minted riders... she's nearly oblivious. C'wlin might be getting distracted by the entering weyrlings, but he finally catches on. "Hey now. Heeeeeey, haaaaaaay, none of that." The weyrling holds the meat just over Athimeroth's head. "You chew." He pauses. "It's for your own good anyway. Let's start over. Here." Meat is passed to the young bronze, attention focused on his own lifemate and none other, "Now, you chew." "Yeah." K'zin responds meaningfully to something silent from his lifemate as the first hunk of meat is experienced. He's quick to heft another chunk, and then another, and another, though heedful of the reminders that pass about from everywhere to make sure Rasavyth chews, though the former Smith seems pleased that the dragon doesn't seem to be struggling with that. He grins over to the former Harper, "Yeah, me too. Rasavyth says it's the right name. What does--" He looks to C'wlin's bronze, "-yours call you?" There's a beat before he thinks to ask, "And what do you call him?" No, Rasavyth is not having trouble with chewing. Who would have trouble with chewing? Only stupid dragons, that's who. He pauses, only for a moment, to turn his attention towards that other bronze. Is he stupid? Maybe. Ilicath is not crazy. He's just... currently... judgment-impaired, his eyes an orange-red now from both visible and invisible impact. Still, upon recovery he can suck down the meat, slurping at Alida's hand with his long and raspy tongue. He wouldn't take her hand off. A finger, though, maybe she can spare that... Athimeroth's best, most innocent look is bestowed on C'wlin. What? If he's going to hold the meat up there, maybe he'll just... give... a little, just a little... nudge. Hey. Down here. Of course, the dragon's far too young to know his own strength, so a little nudge might be a bit stronger than he meant. "C'wlin," C'wlin supplies, "And he's Athimeroth." That moment of distraction is enough when the bronze nudges and the harper-bronzerider-weyrling takes a bum-tumble, the meat he was holding tumbling down, conveniently for the bronze to gulp down. "Euf!" C'wlin huffs when he hits the floor, more stunned than anything else. "For crying out loud!" But then: "You chew that, Athimeroth!" Lina lingers a moment longer to ensure that Alida and Ilicath are more or less settled, then limps her way to intercept N'ky with yet another bucket. "Congratulations, yes, she is lovely. Here, this meat is for you. I expect she's quite hungry? Come on in and join your new wing." "Gha!" Alida barks out as that raspy tongue chafes her tender flesh, the young woman then asking him, "What the fuck are you, a feline?" Blink...and then the loud giggles and finally guffaws come. Uh...Alida, you're clowing your cool image. The sound of the guard's laughter is a tad unhinged in places, but she seems quite on base in her tending to Ilicath, each morsel bestowed on the blue with a clipped, "Chew it, toots." Cailluneth presses herself tightly against N'ky's leg-- is it hard to walk with a soft bundle of green squeezed in so closely? She's still looking up at him with every other step, as if to check he's still there-- which certainly makes it hard for her to walk. They've only just entered the barracks when she trips and plows her nose right into the hard stone. WAIL! K'zin's eyes follow his dragon's attentions to Athimeroth, pausing in his meat-giving to quirk curious eyebrows at his lifemate. Certainly not wanting to withhold until Rasavyth is sated, he's soon back to handing over chunks of meat. He becomes distracted though, when he sees Nicky entering. And then he's even more distracted because he hears Alida laughing. His eyes scan about. Something must be wrong! Athimeroth's far too pleased with the results, a careful step or two securing him that meat, and a position over the top of C'wlin. In concession, he does chew the food. But he's also made it very difficult for C'wlin to get up, without some acrobatics and belly crawling to get out from underneath him. A sly look is given Rasavyth's way. Athimeroth's training his rider early. He likes that laughter, does Ilicath, and anyone around him who's remotely listening can feel it as much as the hunger that pervades the barracks. He'll chew. Fine. At least, the big ones. As long as the food keeps coming, thanks. Bite after bite, eventually his belly begins to distend. A shell-shocked N'ky nods at Lina, and it really is hard to walk like that, especially when he's already on wobbly legs! When she trips, he drops heavily to his knees with the crack of bone on stone, reaching out for her and cradling her head, stroking over her long headknobs soothingly. "O-oh! C-Cai! Are you h-h-hurt?" Are there other people in here? He doesn't seem to notice them, not even Wak-- K'zin. "Mmmkay," C'wlin, at first, isn't cluing in that he's trapped, but then when all there is to see is dragon chest and belly, it's not so hard to realize. "Haaaaay, you gotta move." That Crom accent slightly filters into the vowels of his words, as Impression and other things have thrown him off his game. Gone is the perfect enunciation. Rather than cave to acrobatics, the harper uses his craft skills and goes limp, arms flung out. "If I can't move, you can't get anymore meat." How're them apples? "Oh!" Lina seems likewise taken aback. She reaches out to help the pair up, then hesitates and just leaves a hand out for N'ky to take if he needs. "It's okay, they're clumsy when they're young. We can have the healers take a look at her, if you like, but she really must be hungry. Can you help her over?" "Yeah...that's it, toots," Alida finally subsides enough from crowing laughter to speak in normal tones to the blue she stands before, the blonde uncaring of all the blood over her robe, hands, and Ilicath's maw as she feeds him with cautious enthusiasm. As the blue's belly distends more, her own echo of hunger pangs from him fades, the guard sighing in slow relief. "I've gone days without food before...but shells, boy!" the woman yakks quite easily to her bouncing blue baby. And then that wail sounds off, inciting 'lida to whip around like a jungle cat and stare at the green and N'ky. Blink. "You alright?" K'zin probably begins to wish at this point that there were some things in life that weren't shared with him. He starts to twitch, and shift, and just looks darned uncomfortable. "Uh--" Confusion shows on his face. "We-- uh-- we will do it-- uh--" Twitch twitch, "--often! And then exercise a lot." Brown eyes flitter away from his lifemate and his own current distress when he hears the wail, but it looks like N'ky's got it covered, so looking back to Rasavyth, with furrowed brows, he asks, "Is your hide itching?" He's heard that happens. Forgetting the meat, he's directing Rasavyth closer to the oil. Those apples are fine, it seems, since the bulging belly of Athimeroth's indicates he's just about full. He makes as if to sit, then realizes he can't quite -- not with C'wlin trapped underneath him, and so it's an awkward kind of hover. But he's making a point and it's totally worth it, yo. The barracks are a controlled chaos. Everything has been laid out in preparation for hungry baby dragons: there is not only chopped meat in buckets, but there are weyrlingmasters quick to distribute the bounty as the new pairs come stumbling off the sands. There's a full bucket for refills in the center of the barracks, and next to it is a container of oil. Paddles and individual buckets await the new weyrlings pairs for after they've sated their hatching hunger. N'ky's shaking fingers reach out to stroke over Cailluneth's nose, and he looks up at Lina, worried. "Sh-she hurts," he stutters, panicked, before looking back at his green -his green! - and trying to stroke her where it's painful. "I-it's ok, C-Cai! I-it's ok! W-would food m-make it b-better for y-you?" Because food is the cure to all hatchling woes, isn't it? What is that odd sensation? Like a muscle spasm in your leg, moving up the back of your calf. Ugh. Unbearable. (to C'wlin) Currently trapped beneath his lifemate, C'wlin seems to be in the act of negotiations that don't seem to go very well. N'ky, Alida, K'zin -- they are all only on the peripheral to his own little world. What happens with them, well, his whole view is (literally) taken up by Athimeroth. "Oh I see, now that you're full... Shells. What is wrong with my leg?! Are you crushing it?!" Someone hasn't quite discovered the line between mental experiences and physical ones yet. Cailluneth picks her nose up, only to press it sharply against N'ky's hand. She doesn't seem hurt, truly, only startled. She gathers herself slowly, carefully, then swings her head over towards the smell of meat. Meat? Meat! Ilicath is looking back at Alida as though he understands every word, but he's definitely chewing with his mouth wide open, so she can see all that mastication in action. Until she turns, and he's turning around just as fast, and he's staring at his sister and her boy too. Only, then he relaxes and opens his jaws wide, leaning in to try and mouth Alida's calf muscle. Not that he's biting or anything. Just being... possessive. Rasavyth's hide must be itching, because he straightens abruptly at this mention from his K'zin. Good boy. Not completely stupid, then. Figuring that Nicky, er, N'ky, is just as shell shocked as she was - and kind-of still is - Alida spares a glance over to Lina, then returns her attention to Ilicath, continuing to feed him, though more slowly... until she notices that C'wlin is underneath his bronze. Suddenly... more laughter explodes from the often hostile blonde...until she feels teeth around her calf. In an instant, the female's almost leaping out of her boots, trying to escape what instinct tells her is a deadly grasp. How ridiculous she must look, trying to leap away from her own lifemate. "I know, it must be very startling." Lina's voice is soothing, and just loud enough to be heard over the din of the barracks. "See, she looks alright. Come on over. Everything will be better after you've got her fed. What was her name, again? I don't think I caught it." There's some awkward-looking game of twister going on over where Athimeroth is trying to peer underneath himself without moving. There's a shake of his own leg -- in reaction, maybe? Sympathy? Certainly Ilicath gives Alida quite the huge, wistful eyes, that would be more visibly bluer if it weren't for the . shadows of his eyeridges. What? Or, if it was fun, « Do that again? » N'ky is clumsy getting to his feet, encouraging Cailluneth to do the same when Lina's reassurance. "Y-you can't, um... n-no. D-dragons eat, um..." Oh yes, the meat. She's seen it - smelt it - and he nods encouragingly to her. "C-" He's totally going to stutter the name to Lina, and he stops, bites down on his lip and exhales hard to try again. "C-Ca... Cailluneth. She's h-hungry. C-can we..." He doesn't wait for the permission he seeks, leading his new lifemate off to get her fed. K'zin is lost in the mission at hand. Speaking of hands, he goes into the oil pot with both of them, getting oily up to the elbows. Turning to slop it onto Rasavyth's back. No, not completely stupid, but definitely a total newbie to the task of dragon oiling. For now he's just smearing it around. Maybe that will help some? Maybe they got lost somehow, or distracted, for two pairs of weyrling pairs stagger in at last, all but arm in arm: two girls, two greens, Sabella and the one who'd been Searched yesterday, Telavi. The latter's laughing again and again against Sabella's shoulder, hazily, as though somewhere out there she'd gotten high. Maybe, by the look of the equally hazy-eyed green by her side, she had. Both of them slow to a stop once they actually enter the glowlit barracks, Solith blinking fitfully until finally two pairs of inner lids lower. The new girl blinks a couple of times too, at all the unfamiliar faces, and pushes her blonde hair back behind her shoulders as though that would put everything else in place, too, "Oh fer..." Alida clips off to her blue when something only she can 'hear' is said. "I will not..." is spoken to those huge, imploring eyes of Ilicath's...which almost take her in until she sees the shadow of their ridges above. N'hax is a little bewildered. Shocked? Happy? Something-- overwhelmed. His hand stays possessive, as if it has a mind completely not-of-the-man-himself. There's only the BRIEFEST pause before he's moving forwards, with surety, to the food. Hunger. He's hung-- okay, so he was hungry beforehand, but Jhorinth is more hungry. "Here, here," and he's quick to get his hands dirty, careless in the act of Getting The Job Done. (There are other people around, saywhat?) Kazavoth comes in from the sands with Kaeden... D'kan, apparently, orangish gaze swirling to red as he scents the meat in the room, looks around for the source of it. There's a nudge for his new buddy. Hey. Let's maybe find that? Ilicath tries to speak back to his Alida, only it comes out as a grainy, raspy rumble. Perhaps with a little more practice... "I'm trying!" K'zin's response is a mixture of sincerity and annoyance. "If you could stop itching so much, it would be helpful!" This phrase is touched with good-humor as his movements become more schooled. He begins to rub the oil in circles. "If you'd been green, there'd have been less of you to oil, too." The tone suggest that K'zin is in no way disappointed by the color of his lifemate's hide, merely an observation of another impossible thing Rasavyth could do to help all this itching. Cailluneth is, surprisingly, all graceful motion when she's got the room to move. She trails just after N'ky's heel, and occasionally reaches out to touch her tongue to the back of his bare leg. You know, just to check. She lets out a low half-growl half-creel with every step that she has to take that doesn't end with food in her mouth. That sensation creeps up your leg and down your back now too, somewhere between painful and itchy. (to C'wlin) "BUGS!" C'wlin starts scrambling out from under Athimeroth, this time doing all the acrobatics and belly crawling he can do to escape. "There's bugs on this floor. They're all -- in my -- wait." Now the harper's leaning down to scratch and rub at his leg and back, twisting. Nothing quite like looking idiotic in front of his fellow weyrlings. "Something's wrong. Lina. Something is wrong. I'm itching and it hurts and -- woah. People." He's just now realizing that his world isn't, in fact, empty. Rasavyth freezes. Abruptly. What did you say, K'zin? Athimeroth might have, in other circumstances, been celebrating his victory, but he, too, is squirming. Bugs. Bugs? Who knows, but whatever it is has the bronze twisting uncomfortably, trying to see something that isn't there. "I don't think you c'n talk the outer way I do, toots..." Alida notes in almost garrulous fashion to Ilicath, a suddenly huge and perhaps almost disgustingly shiny grin splitting her face like a sunrise...except for the advent of her white teeth. And with VERY uncharacteristic pleasure, the woman kneels and wraps her arms around the blue's neck, squeezing him fiercely. Lina is reactive to screams-- and it's amazing how fast a woman with a limp like hers can move when she has to, especially when Aryeth is suddenly crooning encouragement to Athimeroth. "What-- what? What's happened? It-- ah." Just as quickly as the concern rises, it fades back down to nothing. "You're itchy, C'wlin, or he is?" Sabella is laughing too, but that fades when they enter the barracks. Her eyes are wide and soon Ghislaith is nudging at her hip with insistence and that hunger in her whirling eyes takes up priority. Fifteen minutes with his lifemate and already K'zin's tasting foot. Good to know that that happens with dragons as well as girls! "Shards, Rasavyth, it was a joke. I don't want you to be green. I know you're-- perfect. The way you're supposed to be. Just... you're itchy... and greens are smaller... and--" He may have been tasting foot, but now he feels dumb. "Bad joke. Sorry. I'm sorry. Here, I'll make it stop itching." And maybe that will fix things? N'ky has a tongue on the back of his leg. That freaks him out a little and he jumps, turning to look down at Cailluneth with eyes big. "Um..." Right. Right - she's licking him. "I-I can't eat this," he says when they reach the meat and he produces a piece for her, holding it out right in front of her muzzle. "W-will you s-stop th-that noise, um, i-if you eat?" Rasavyth is mollified, largely, by K'zin's response, and consents to settle back down, and be oiled. Better. Now, with his needs being properly attended to, he turns blue-eyed, whirling gaze about the other dragons, considering them one by one. Quite possibly dismissing them, too, a little-- and yet, he seems so friendly. "I -- wait. Maybe he is." C'wlin pauses and tries to separate himself from his dragon -- and while he can't, not really -- to better understand where the pain is coming from. "Yes, he is. But it's painful." His own sudden rise of upset settles down, but his brows draw together. "Is it supposed to be /painful/?" Brushing the raw-meat-blood-stained robe back to order, the weyrling looks around -- hi, guys! -- and asks. "Oil?" That's what you do, right? But Ilicath's staring up at Alida just as adoringly, unless that's just as adorably. At least, until his neck gets squeezed. It's a little tiny neck, right now, hard to believe she'll ever be able to sit on it while he carries them both. He squeaks. D'kan is in this weird stage of collected and totally flabbergasted as he enters the barracks with Kazavoth. Being one of the last pairs to make each other's acquaintance, the weyrling is a little lost at first, just staring at all the other pairs already there. Kaz's nudge breaks him out of it, though, and a second later the two are heading toward that meat where D'kan quietly goes about finding some suitable pieces. He just might have tried a tiny sliver for himself, no lies. It's rough missing breakfast. No sooner has N'ky held out the lump of meat than it disappears down Cailluneth's throat. She does stop making that terrible croon, though only long enough to swallow the lump. But then her maw is wide open again and ready for the next piece... except that she's still trying to croon. It comes out... awkwardly. "Oh crap; I'm sorry!" Alida suddenly cozens to her blue lifemate, those arms releasing his poor neck so she can peer intently at Ilicaeth and run her hands all over his neck, this time. "How's this?" is spoken both outwardly and inwardly as she prods, carresses where her arms once squeezed. Better watch out, Alida, or you'll likely start up the itchies. It's quite apparent that the oiling process for Athimeroth is going to be fuelled by twisting, impatient movement from the bronze -- he can't seem to sit still, undoubtedly because of all the sensations that C'wlin, too, can feel. It's a good thing there's a fair bit of room in the barracks, although that doesn't mean he doesn't nearly tread on Ilicath's tail as he flails around. Much better! Ilicath tries another noise, this time turning out more like a still-raspy croon. He looks gratified about it, too: new noises, for the win! And... oh, yes. Itch. Must scratch. His hindpaw goes up and he sort of flails with it. "Yes, I'm sure it does feel painful to him. He's never felt dry, itchy hide before. Here, we've plenty of oil. Don't be afraid to get him very well covered; there's no over-doing it." Lina helpfully nudges forward one of the empty buckets and paddles for C'wlin. Pleased to be eating, Kazavoth will pretty much eat as long as D'kan is willing to feed his waiting maw. He's starving, and stocky, but can he seriously be that hungry? Watching the young man eat a piece, his snort is dubious. K'zin is the dutiful weyrling then, carefully rubbing the oil all about the bronze's hide, getting into the folds between limb and body. He's taken care of most everything while the bronze does his crowd-gazing, but then it's time for the face. "Um," While the others seem to be having their hands full with some babyish behavior, K'zin seems to feel the need to word what he says next carefully, "I need to do your face, Rasavyth. Please, will you stay still?" It's not a command. It's clear who wears the pants in this pairing. Athimeroth can show off his weyrling training skills, but it looks like K'zin is already trained up - no bullying needed. Okay. C'wlin's shoulders set as he tries to ignore the sensations that's twisting his dragon all up. "I've got this," says the boy who's confidence is slowly returning. "All right, Athimeroth. Hold still." Now the boy sets about oiling the bronze all up. Yep, that's right, it's oiling time and he's getting alllll those spots that emanate pain. For now, he's totally consumed. N'ky is quick in supplying more meat! Not /too/ quick, though; just quick enough. "S-slowly, C-Cai..." Soothing, soft, his fingers run over her nose as he speaks to her, handing her another piece of meat. He seems to be calming down considerably, though his focus is definitely still on the new girl in his life. As if there weren't enough already! "I'm n-not h-hurting," he reassures... though he sure is hungry. "Th-that's..." His tummy rumbles audibly, and he presses a hand to it. "H-hunger?" Rasavyth considers, very carefully, and seems content enough to follow K'zin's suggestion (and yes, it really is nothing more than that: pants are here!). He settles down, watching his weyrling with interest, enough so that he'll turn away from his study of the others to do so. Well? "Now how the crap did I know you were gonna do that?" Alida mumbles around a smirk as she watches her blue start to flail his hind claws at his itch. "Be right back..." is noted to Ilicaeth, the former guard then pacing off smartly to find some oil and a paddle. Along the short way, her greens finally looks all about to take in each of her new class...and the woman simply stops in her tracks, and stares. Once again, she's caught up in her inner web, and her once pleasant features tighten up into echos of shock and instinctive mistrust. "Fuck... fuckity fuck..." is rasped off to nobody but herself, her new mental connection with Ilucaeth suddenly closed down as much as possible within her mind. This, predicatably, sets the blue to giving off a bark of clear unhappiness onto the air, and sets him into motion across the barracks, until he's trying to skid to a stop at his 'mate's heels...and bowling both of them over in the process. Nevermind a now yellow-eyed dragonette hovering over his human like a raptor - wings mantling over Alida - while he's simultaneously trying to scratch his itches. Cailluneth melts into the contact of N'ky's hand-- she seems to enjoy that almost as much as she enjoys her dinner. Almost. Still, once she's had a few she takes a little break so that she can press her (not too clean) muzzle against the part of N'ky's midsection that is making such a strange noise. "As if you could eat all of this," D'kan replies to Kazavoth, purposely eating another piece of meat before holding out a nice chunk for the brown. Once that's gone, he spares another look for some of his newfound clutchmates, but a moment later he's managed to pull something over so he can take a seat. For the next several minutes, the candi--, no, weyrling focuses entirely on Kaz, leaning in to brush bits of egg, goo and sand from the brown's body in between mouthfuls. K'zin's hand dips into the oil again and this time is very careful. Single oil-coated calloused finger tips glide over the dragon's long, sharp head, over eyeridges and knobs, careful not to get any anywhere it ought not go. He takes his care with the dragon's maw, using the oil to smear away some of the dried blood. "There. Better?" He queries, canting his head to look at the bronze. Huddled off to the side, where little Solith won't get into the larger dragons' way, Telavi looks uneasily from her dragonet (her dragon!) to her now-bloodied hands, only to have the green begin to lick them like she'd wash them clean. She can't help but smile, a little tremulously in a way that turns from sudden, all but heartbroken wistfulness as Solith fully looks away from her for the first time, past her hands and towards the other dragonets, like she can see something Telavi can't. "What?" It's almost a whisper. And once again, Ilicaeth's immediate presence seems to snap Alida out of her inner fears, the little blue's press of belly to her own torso finally evincing a gasping, "Ahh shit... I'm sorry, toots..." in somewhat shakey tones to the dragonette...who she's slowly trying to climb out from under. Sabella has found her way to where there's food and she takes the dragon-sized chunks of meat and leads Ghislaith away, finding an empty spot somewhere amongst the chaos. She looks uneasy now, pushing her hair out of her face and holding out one piece at a time. The wiry green takes them in large, hungry mouthfuls. She glances around to see if this is what everyone else is doing. Yes, no? More or less? Alright then. "Slower. Please." That's given in low, quiet tones. Finally, with a certain reservation about him, Ilicaeth allows Alida to her feet, the apologetic former-guard helping her blue to a place where she can quietly settle down and oil his terribly itchy hide at. Once Rasavyth's hunger and itches are sated, blue gaze turns back to the other weyrling dragons and their 'mates. K'zin stands beside his lifemate, looking a little awkward, until brows rise in surprise and he shifts abruptly, chest and head up, hands falling casually to his sides. A single brow lifts to inquire silently to Rasavyth, 'like this?' The bronze peeks, but then goes back to looking at the others, and the weyrling doesn't shift again, so he must have adjusted alright. There is a short time when D'kan and Kazavoth are having a heated (if silent) discussion about something. Most likely about how much more food the brown can hold. It doesn't take a genius to spot the drooping eyes, though, so in the end, D'kan wins. He just manages to get Kaz over to where he can sleep, using the opportunity to get those last few bits of shell and sand off the brown's hide before he's... looking at the others. "It's okay to ditch these sharding robes now, right? I think the sweat froze to my arms." With Cailluneth full and oiled, N'ky leads his sleepy lifemate over to where Waki -- K'zin! -- has his Rasavyth. "Sh-she's... W-Waki... I-I've g-got a... look at her!" Overwhelmed, clearly, he sinks down beside Cai, who rests-her head in his lap and makes a low, satisfied sort of growl-sigh. "She's mine, W-Waki." Rasavyth is resistant to sleep, but he's feeling the effects of being full and no longer itchy the same as the other newly hatched dragons. His gaze latches onto N'ky and Cailluneth as they draw nearer. K'zin glances towards the bronze before stepping to meet N'ky. "I'm K'zin. Who are you?" This is not the ultimate philosophical question, but simply asking how he is called in his new rider life. Soft brown eyes turn to regard Cailluneth and then back to N'ky, "She's beautiful, Nick. Just amazing." He glances over his shoulder and starts to say: "This is--" And is abruptly cut off by a small snort from his lifemate. K'zin shoots a look over his shoulder that is not all together tolerant, but he sighs and starts again, "May I introduce you to my lifemate, Rasavyth?" He gestures with a foppish hand movement. If K'zin's having a somewhat difficult time of getting his dragon to sleep, he oughtta see how bad it is for Alida. Ilicaeth's getting up and down, up and down, over and over ad nauseum from his chosen wallow, and apparently everything the blonde does to try and make him comfy ISN'T WORKING. D'kan finishes settling Kazavoth, cleaning his hide (and a few meaty bits from his muzzle), then makes clothing his next priority. After some searching, he's managed to find his trunk and brings it over near Kaz before dropping that robe to go digging. In record time (he's cold after standing in a robe off the sands), the weyrling is dressed and wandering toward N'ky and K'zin, his attention split between looping his belt around his waist and checking over his shoulder for Kazavoth. Another time-skip, and it's Telavi's turn to look about, Solith in her arms. Perhaps it's the sound of different voices that brought her back, because she's now just watching K'zin and N'ky with the bemused air of someone who's never known them by any other names. Finally she stands, awkwardly, reshaping the little green so that she's curved upon her shouders like a necklet or, yes, an overgrown firelizard half-knotted in her hair. Uncertainly she steps toward them, only to catch herself partway as D'kan's starting to do the same thing, and pauses on her toes. "K- K'zin?" Not a typical N'ky stutter there, but a surprised one at hearing his friend's new name. "N'ky." Not too much different from before, and he grins proudly as he says it, standing up a little taller and puffing out his chest. "N'ky, and C-Cailluneth. Cai. Cai. I can s-say it without st-stuttering, I swear." Faranth forbid people start calling her Caicailluneth because he's unable to stay it properly himself. Yet, anyway. Let the excitement calm down first! "Kaeden!" The newly-minted greenrider greets his fellow weyrling, looking over his outfit and suddenly realising there's something else happening. And he's got promises to keep. "O-oh! Oh..." A conflicted second 'oh' as he looks at Cailluneth... but she's sleeping, eyes closed and breath soft and slow. Gently, he slips her head from his lap and stands up, looking reluctant to leave her. "I n-need to change!" "Shards, 'caeth!" Alida finally barks out low to her blue, the rock-solid Ilicaeth tryling to look apologetic as he finds yet something else wrong with his wallow, the dragonette snuffling at it, then scratching at the thing with is claws. "Like that's gonna help..." is muttered by the former-guard, whose temper and patience is running thin, bu this time. She's oiled him TWICE, she's scritched him near head to tail-tips, cleaned out his wallow, checked his hide... Wait. Sudden inspiration makes Alida hurry off to grab up a broom, the blonde then raising a small cloud of dust and debris as she methodically sweeps that wallow clean. Sabella somehow gets Ghislaith to sleep in a couch that she claims for the both of them, after the green is oiled and fed. The cot that's nearby is claimed as well by the newly minted weyrling a few things across its top. And when she can get the alls clear from a weyrlingmaster, the girl slips out of the barracks to get some air. Some much needed air. "It really would benefit you to sleep." K'zin suggests quietly to Rasavyth. Finally, the bronze seems to heed his suggestion after looking about once more. His long head tilts, and then he moves quite purposefully towards one of the dragon couches. It's one that is larger, hopeful of his eventual size. K'zin starts to move after him but stops before he gets even two steps. "Well, alright then," is all he mutters. Suspicion holds in his eyes as he watches his lifemate move purposefully and settle in, dozing off almost immediately. He gives a sympathetic look to Alida as he catches her in his gaze in his process of turning back towards N'ky, also seeing D'kan's approach. He wolf-whistles at the man, "Ready to help me dance the boots off the girls?" He calls, softly in deference to the sleeping dragons. To N'ky, he grins, "You'll get there. You can practice." He nods to the green-weyrling's suggestion. "Yeah, Rasavyth forbids me from going to the party dressed... um, like this. Or smelling this way. I'll have to meet you at the party? I need a quick bath. Unless someone has some-- cologne or something?" He looks hopefully towards D'kan. D'kan finishes with the belt and tugs at his tucked-in shirt slightly so it's just right. Then he looks at the others, a pause to frown at Telavi. New face. "You said K'zin and N'ky?" he asks, giving Nick's name just a slight emphasis on the "key" part. "He's calling me D'kan for some reason, but I kinda like it. Are you guys going to the party? I'm going to run while Kazavoth's sleeping. See if I can get a dance in or something. Or some sharding food. Faranth, I'm starving. And raw meat tastes gross." He gives K'zin a quick shake of the head. "I'm lucky I have clothes. Um... I'll just see you guys there, all right?" he informs the other weyrlings in general as he gives a last look over his shoulder. Someone needs food, like... yesterday, 'cause he's already headed outside. Telavi pivots on her toes as people walk to and fro, and now she's ghosting towards the girl who's sweeping, light-footed and oh so careful. Drowsy Solith wrinkles her tiny nose and sneezes, but her weyrling only asks, "Are we... supposed to do that?" N'ky is not really one to wear scenty things, so it's just as well the question's shot to the former dockhand. He winks at Wa-- K'zin, gently picks up Cailluneth, nodding to Kaeden-now-D'kan. "D'kan? I-I like it... I-I'm c-coming with you!" And he goes to claim their new home and change. He's quick in doing so, barely taking the time to tame curls made wild by the heat of the sands, but he looks presentable... ish, when he steps back out, looking wistfully back to where his lifemate is fast asleep. To Telavi he smiles, "C-coming to the p-party?" Before tilting his head towards the exit to the outside world - Waki'll know to catch up with him, won't he? Because off N'ky goes, to claim the dances promised. N'hax has been rather automated in the past while, wholly focused upon the tasks in front of him and mentally occupied with the bright bronze who curls so casually possessive, eyes sharp for those who linger too close to the pair. Food, water; oil.... sleep. It's only after the young dragon has fallen truly asleep that N'hax rouses, and stumbles off after his companions, shaking his head as if to clear it. K'zin wastes no time after the others have headed off in moving to his own chest and relocating it to the couch Rasavyth has selected. He gives the bronze one more glance, as he opens his chest and shuts it again, nothing in there will suit. Not now that Rasavyth is in his head. He looks at the dragon in puzzlement for a long moment, perhaps thinking aren't baby dragons supposed to be-- cuddlier? or something, but the silly notion, whatever it was is shrugged off and he heads for the bathes, by way of the stores. Perhaps it's another voice that Telavi hears, for after a little while she keeps walking, Solith evidently comfortable enough on her shoulders to tolerate it. She walks through the barracks, peering at all around her, until finally settling near where she'd began, on a cot next to Ghislaith's weyrling's: if not familiar, at least the least unfamiliar of them all. After a half hours of working to calm her whirling mind, control her misgivings and concerns, Alida finally is able to peel herself from the cot she's taken, and move to the baths...perhaps even to the damned party.