Logs:Technically
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| RL Date: 11 April, 2013 |
| Who: Mave, N'hax, Jhorinth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Mave needs advice related to N'hax's old smithing grounds. |
| Where: Feeding Grounds, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 26, Month 6, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Warm sunshine and cloudless skies make for a beautiful day and pleasantly warm evening. A breeze tempers the heat with no humidity lingering in the air. |
| Mentions: E'sren/Mentions |
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| Feeding Grounds, High Reaches Weyr Wedged between the lake and the rest of the vast bowl are the dusty feeding grounds. Here, the well-trampled ground is contained by a sturdy wooden fence, cutting right through one end of the lake to section it off into a muddy watering hole for the animals. Several gates allow people in and out, while at the back, large overhangs of rock provide the herd -- a mixed bag of herdbeasts, wing-clipped wherries, and fat porcines -- shelter from storms or the hot sun. What grass survives is usually bloodstained, but feeding troughs are stationed around the edges of the pen. Nothing says 'on a mission' quite like clutching a packet of hides to your chest while being pointed in a specific direction. Enter Mave, her hands plastering said orange-red folder to her as the helpful local weyrling indicates the feeding grounds from across the bowl. Plunging into the sunlight with a dedicated pace, she's there with no extra meandering, a can-do thinning of her lips as she glances into the cloudless sky, timing her walk-- or calculating some, perhaps the afternoon feeding habits of certain people in various places. When thick-soled sandals, a departure from the heavier boots of usual days, hit the trampled ground of the feeding pens, she pauses to actually survey what it is she's been power-walking towards. This realization puts a general brake on her progress. Oh yes: the survey. A section of the feeding grounds has been given over to elderly and infirm beasts, and the growing dragons that hunt them. Jhorinth, one of the biggest of the latter, hunts with a focused intensity that's disturbing and doubly so given the unconscious grace of his movements. He circles a particular herdbeast, marking his prey before launching himself up into the air and down in a bizarre crow-hop directly upon the poor beast. The back crunches, neck snaps, and down the bronze goes exultant. His feeding is more gruesome. N'hax watches the process with the distant eyes of a man who isn't quite paying attention to what is in front of him. The bronzeling is leaning against the fence, arms leaning against the tallest rail; he's in profile to the approaching Mave. A profile she's eager to pick up on, even if it takes Mave a moment to realize that's the one. Gearing back up to a purposeful gait, she's by him momentarily, preparing the greeting of a quick grin to the side of his face. "N'hax!" She's done her homework, proven by a glance cast out amongst the beasts where she, squinting against the sun, comments openly, "Jhorinth's good at that." Chin jerking to indicate the dragon, she's hasty to pull the folder off from her chest, resting it on an arm to use her other hand to hold up a finger, "Do you have a moment to give your opinion on something, structurally?" The last a hint of a question inside a question, a gamble that she's remembered what she has correctly: that this word will elicit a response. "He's studied it," returns N'hax, wryly; "Extensively. I expect he should be." The man's grey eyes shift from his lifemate to the newcame Mave, and an eyebrow lifts. "Mave, isn't it?" They've met, of course, but -- his last few months have been, to say the least, hectic. His eyes sharpen at the last part, interest piqued. "Of course. Anything I can do to help. What is it exactly that you have a question about?" Meanwhile, the sounds of Jhorinth chowing down offer a gruesome song as background noise -- like elevator music, but with more gristle. "It is!" Surprise at being remembered somewhat dazzles her smile with confusion, but Mave moves on instantly, clambering onto his alerted interest. Flipping open the folder reveals a set list, and a few preliminary sketches. Her hand splays over the pictures to point them out, "I just wanted an opinion on a building thing." A second later, realizing the obstacle of seeing through her fingers, she glides them off, holding the folder open with both hands. Pictures of a pretend hold, a renegade sailing ship, and a beach are prevalent. Others are smaller, etched into corners, or abandoned. There's also been notations on a few, as well as attempts at fusing the sets together, all scribbled out. "Some sets are being designed for a play we're doing, but I'm-- well, desperate, frankly, to make this as cost efficient as possible, as well as making it really easy to switch between sets quickly. Really, if it's possible. I'll also settle for normal easy." He's flashed a cheeky smile, to relieve some of the pressure she'd otherwise be putting on his five-minutes-in-the-feeding-pen talents. Her face softens. "I remembered your beautiful drawings..." As explanation for her purposeful hunt: not unlike Jhorinth, she's pounced. But with less gristle. Though he can be clueless about some things, N'hax at least has a knack for names. He offers a smile for a smile, his marked less with confusion; then she's showing, and he's absorbing, fingers hovering over the marks on the page. He's frowning, in thought, and silent throughout her light commentary - even through the end. It takes a moment after for the weyrling to rouse out of his thoughts. "What was that, again? Oh. Yes. Ah, thank you. I wouldn't call them beautiful per se..." He squints up from the pictures -- Jhorinth, having slowly devoured all of one side, is nosing the beast onto the opposite side to have at the rest. "I think it's doable. Do you have the backing of the weyr, for this? It would be-- effective, if you had access to the stores for this. You could repurpose items that otherwise have sat around forever. Ugly furniture, that kind of thing. Where are you holding it?" "I..." Mave's confident beginning, sounding like she spat it out before fully processing his question, trails off more sheepishly, "-- haaaave... not gone back to the harpers with all this-- but no one's stopped me yet." Eyes that were starting to droop pop up to stare at him for the idea. "Oh! Good, yes. Waste not, want not. Use all of everything you catch." Fingers writhe against the bottom of the file, as if meaning to create an emphasizing gesture but, finding themselves trapped in occupation, only rattle all the hides and papers stacked within so that her thumb has to slide out and catch a heavier sketch littered with numbers down the side. "Umm. So, I was hoping outside, in a part of the bowl. If the weather holds. Though a big part of my crew just arrived-- have you seen the traders?-- so I'd like to consult with them. Of course, I'll take any suggestions. I haven't the head for it, like you." She's bright-eyed and all ears, unbothered by her own stated short-comings. The gaze he passes over her is more than slightly sardonic for the over-the-top compliments. "How many set-changes are you looking to execute?" The cogs are grinding in his head (kind of like the small bones grinding together from where Jhorinth's getting too enthusiastic about his food). "You could..." He trails off, shaking his head, musing over the sketches again. His fingers hover, as if so entirely ready to save the portfolio from Mave should she ill-treat it with such ignomities as rattling at the papers again. Sardonic for him; sincerity for her, compliments eased by with the simple practicality of her tone. N'hax is good at this: it is known. Queried, Mave sucks in a breath then exhales it slowly, wobbling a few pages when she begins to count off half-silently on her fingers, lips mouthing: one, two... "Three major, between these," rolling her shoulder, she dips an arm out to indicate each of the main sets in turn: ship, beach, and hold. "Then it stays on the hold exterior for quite some time, then technically, the renegade ship is supposed to show up there, but, I'm not sure how to do that. Technically. For some reason, nobody felt like including a how-to in the play's reading, which is absurdly rude, and I'm aiming to quite remedy." "Hmm." N'hax eyes this longer, for a moment or three. "Do you need a great bit of interaction with the set items? If you can get into the stores, I'd say seek out as much old sheets as you can and stitch them together -- you could paint backdrops and have them mounted on a reel, so you could-- roll them down individually when you need one, roll them up when they aren't. If you put enough care into that, it will solve a great many of your issues. Then you're only looking at facades, which is where repurposing things would come in." He's contemplating the prow of the renegade ship, expression thoughtful. Minutes are employed for Mave, lips gently parted, to stare dully ahead of her, gaze glazed in a concentrated imagining of what's been suggested. Her eyebrows trail downward, tugging in a way that pulls like a puppet string on the corner of her mouth, but she's biting her lip in held enthusiasm by the end. "There's-- oh, well, people have to be able to enter and exit the hold, I suppose. And there are some physical gimmicks with the ship, but I imagine that E'sren's family could improvise. He says they're real good at that." "Of course. You could -- have cu..." N'hax trails off by a particularly MEATY crunching coming from Jhorinth's corner. He winces, the first physical reaction, and shoots Mave an apologetic glance. "When you have your supplies together, and your crew together, and need someone to vet specific elements -- give me a shout. I'd be more than happy to make sure that things are structurally sound and safe for people to interact with." That's about the best she's going to get, because the bronzeling is dipping between the rails and heading towards his lifemate, whose gaping maw shows a pool of ichor among all the blood: man, bones can be SHARP. |
Comments
Comments on "Logs:Technically"Varied (Varied (talk)) left a comment on Fri, 12 Apr 2013 03:53:28 GMT.
Thank you, Jhorinth, for keeping us dragonhealers in business.
Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Fri, 12 Apr 2013 08:41:12 GMT.
I love that N'hax questioned whether or not Mave has the Weyr's support. *laughs* And her "No one's stopped me yet!" was so perfectly Mave.
Oh man, poor Jhorinth!
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