It's a Dirty Job

Writers: Avery, Leigh M-F.
Date Posted: 13th August 2015

Characters: A'kua, K'ran
Description: The normal, everyday things can go so much faster if there's someone to chat with at the same time.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 1, day 12 of Turn 8
Notes: Mentioned: NPC, Nokala, Corran, Ilyssia, Genna and Lissath, R'gelen.

K'ran

Aluka hummed absently as he leisurely paced in front of the winter
lake's entrance, where he had been told to wait to be picked up. Today
he would be helping a dragonpair with their errands, though he hadn't
been told which duo or what had to be done. That was fine; for one,
there had been a lot of other Candidates getting their assignments at
the same time, making things hectic, so he'd been lucky to get even a
bare-bones description. For another, everything was more than okay now
that he was so happy.

The redhead checked the carrysack he had been told to bring just in
case. Rather than dig through storage for one, he had taken his from
under his bed, leaving his possessions wrapped in his quilt. The one
thing he had felt too paranoid to abandon -the remaining fourth-Mark
from his runaway days- was still secure in the seam it had fallen
into, and said seam showed no signs of wear. Satisfied, Aluka let the
bag fall back onto his hip and resumed pacing, the humming turning
into singing under his breath.

K'ran was slightly out of breath as he arrived at the lake. He'd
gotten distracted multiple times and worried he wasn't going to give
his Candidate a very good impression. He scanned the entrance and
looked around. "Aluka?" he called.

The other man turned and sauntered to K'ran, giving him a breezy
two-fingered salute off his forehead. "Candidate Aluka reportin' for
duty, bronzerider. What's on the agenda today?"

"I have a bronze dragon complaining he needs to be cleaned, and after
that some hidework to go over and be distributed to the proper places.
How's your handwriting and ability to read?" K'ran knew some of the
pairs in his wing left absolutely illegible notes.

"Depends on which hand I write with," Aluka said, already strolling
into the winter lake's cavern. His penmanship did tend to turn out
better when he used his right hand, but largely because it didn't drag
through the ink or charcoal and smear everything. When he used his
left hand, the writing looked a little more stilted since he was
trying to avoid doing just that. "I can read fine, though. Where's
your partner?" he asked, surveying the dragons already inside.

"Well, I have a few notes I can't read very well so I'm hoping you
wouldn't mind helping me decipher them."

"The littler bronze over there," K'ran said, pointing. Rogueth was
slightly smaller than the big brown next to him.

"Let me guess: Those notes look like a spinner got drunk, fell in an
inkpot, and tried to walk on the page?" Aluka guessed with a smirk,
heading for the bronze. "I'll do my best." Oh, good, there were some
supplies close by he could grab. He got two brushes and a pail of
sweetsand, and nodded at Rogueth on approach. "My duty to ya."

"That's a poetic description, and entirely accurate," K'ran said with a laugh.

Rogueth dipped his head down and whuffed gently towards Aluka's head.

Aluka chuckled as well. "It's not as poetic as you think. My
grandsire's handwritin' was that bad," he mentioned, holding still as
Rogueth moved his head closer. "I think it's because he used his right
hand when he should've used his left, but he probably didn't want to
make a mess. Where should I start on you?" he questioned Rogueth
directly. He didn't expect the bronze to speak to him, but it was
polite to ask.

The bronze dragon shifted so his left flank and tail were visible and
closer to the Candidate.

K'ran laughed and took his own brush towards his dragon's head. "I
wish they taught a bit better penmanship for the weyrlings. It's
important to know that sweeprides were completed successfully and not
to have bad handwriting downplay something important.

"If they start doin' that, let's hope they don't do it like they did
at my hold," Aluka said as he wet down his brushes and got to work
with both tools. Falior had smacked the backs of his hands every time
he claimed Aluka's handwriting was getting sloppy. He had made the
claim often. That was probably why the Candidate's penmanship had
turned out so blocky and plain.

"Rough Harper?" K'ran guessed. "My penmanship was good but my
brother's was awful. I hear it's improved some."

"The worst," Aluka sighed. "But then, any harper's pretty bad compared
to Harper Nokala."

"Hers is amazing? I suppose that makes sense for the job," K'ran
said.""So what do you do when you're not standing?"

"I meant she's an amazin' harper," Aluka corrected, but not harshly.
"I just do chores as directed by the staff and have lessons with
Nokala, and spend as much time as possible with my lover. That'll be
in short supply if I Impress this time."

"You've stood for at least a Turn, right?" K'ran had only come back to
Dragonsfall within that amount of time, and he thought he'd seen Aluka
at the last few hatchings.

Aluka nodded. "I got here when I was sixteen. I'm eighteen now, and
this hatchin' is the one Lady Lissath is convinced I'll Impress at.
Maybe she's right, but I almost wish she didn't have such faith in
me."

"She has good instincts. Are you a little nervous?" Standing could be
pressure, he knew.

"No," the Candidate denied with a shrug as he kept scrubbing. "I'm set
for it to happen now." He paused briefly to look at K'ran. "Were you
nervous?" Maybe the bronzerider was asking from experience.

"I was scared both times. I didn't think I'd amount to very much - I
was short and pushed around. Nobody expected me to Impress bronze,
including me."

The redhead bit his tongue to refrain from sarcastically commenting
K'ran was still short, what was he talking about? He had no desire to
get eaten by an irate bronze. Instead, he latched onto another part of
the comment, as it reminded him of a discussion he'd had with Genna.
"What did you do when this fella chose you?"

"Do in terms of how I felt?" he queried.

"Everything started to feel right. I didn't doubt myself as much,
because I _knew_ I was loved. And then the next morning I really
realized I was a bronzerider and got scared again. Suddenly everyone
was paying attention to me. And Rogueth was sick. But when you face
challenges like that, you power through with determination. A little
grit's a good thing." K'ran laughed at the memory of how horrified
several people had been.

The mention of attention was just like R'gelen at the last Hatching
Feast. "Bugger," Aluka muttered. "And Genna and Lissath want me to go
through that."

"At least you're not going to Impress a gold. Those would be even
worse," the bronzerider joked. "In all seriousness, it's not that bad
to put up with it for a few nights. He'll support you through it. I'd
rather be embarrassed a thousand times over than have not Impressed."

The Candidate looked out into the Weyrbowl and toward the hatching
ground, where Lissath brooded over her eggs and Genna kept her
company, and found himself still hoping he wouldn't Impress bronze. He
just wasn't cut out for it. Not even confessing to Lys was as scary as
the thought of all that responsibility. He finished Rogueth's tail and
moved to the other side.

"Do you have a favorite candidate duty or are they all boring now
because you've been here awhile?"

Aluka snorted. "Chores were borin' even before I became a Candidate.
What I really prefer doin' is workin' with Nokala." He shrugged.
"Can't do that all the time, sadly. What's your favorite part of bein'
a rider?"

"Honestly, I enjoy sweeprides. Flying low and slow over territory
gives me a great way of learning the lands around me. I found some
lovely places that way. Don't get to do it as much when I'm busy
assigning others to it."

"Why not just take one on a restday?" Aluka suggested. "You could
explain it by sayin' you're double-checkin' some reports you got or
somethin'."

"That's a good point," K'ran said. "Thanks for the great suggestion."

"You're welcome." Oh, hey, they were nearly done soaping up Rogueth.
The chatter was making the time pass, even if it wasn't necessarily
making Aluka feel better about the upcoming hatching. At least it was
still some way off. (Too bad trying to decipher drunken spinner
writing was right around the proverbial corner.)

Last updated on the August 13th 2015

Welcome to Triad Weyrs!

It's a Dirty Job