The de-fleaing!
After a persistent case of fleas in the Lower Caverns (and a select few of the higher ones) of HRW for some weeks, Marond finally took things into his own hands and organised the whole weyr to have a thorough cleanout. This is the bit of it that I caught on log. Please note that this is /long/, owing to the numbers of people posing. We also have RP happening in multiple places--Gunwalloe is my fire lizard in the central bowl, so it gets a little confusing, particularly with people being obliged to idle from time to time.

Within this log, Pyrene confronts Vaeli about cleaning. Also playing at various times are Areiah, Ashli, Auryn, Crihan, Desba, Marond, M'nty & Sylara. I think that's everybody.


Thursday 5 August 2004

If nowhere else in the Reaches, the baths always promise to be warm...
Baths
Steam enshrouds, a misty curtain that veils the room. Pools abound, water constantly swirling, warm and inviting; soapsand waits on nearby ledges for easy access. Racks of clothes stand by the door, freshly washed clothing hang from some, and bundles of yet to be washed clothes fill mutliple baskets beneath. Large cupboard doors open to reveal multitude of fresh, soft towels, and plenty of bathing items -- sponges, pumice stones, and back scrubbers.
Ducking steamclouds are four firelizards.
Marond and Ashli are here.
Obvious exits:
Caverns

Crihan is but a blur in the steam, moving quietly in from the caverns.

Sylara is but a blur in the steam, moving quietly in from the caverns.

Ashli meanders in, rag in hand, kerchief keeping back curly locks, clad, as usual, in a rather ragged-looking tunic and wherhide breeches that have certainly seen better days. However, she is here...though that seems mostly to be due to the prodding of the clean-loving Isamath, as Ash suddenly murmurs, "Yes, yes, Isa, I made it to the Baths, I'll make sure to take one while I'm here." An eye roll accompanies that, though a wry grin tugs at her lips as she glances around curiously to figure out who else is around.

Sylara wanders in, knowing that today is the defleaing day, so she comes in here to take a bath. Wasn't that the first step? She glances around, and sees all manner of people here, and frowns. One aspect of Weyr life she has yet to learn to enjoy. "Hello, all." She says, shrugging.

Crihan is already quite present -- scrubbing off his hands quite rapidly. "Stupid feline," he mutters rather irritably, trying to wash the furry, sandy grime off his hands. He's yet to be rid of the creature, whether it was fond of Khanyl and Donis or not. "Hi," Han offers as a quiet response to Sylara.

Pyrene is carrying a bundle of cloth somethings under her arm. She throws one to Ashli and shakes one out for herself, revealing them to be... smocks, with a plain 'Esprit' embroidered below the right shoulder where their knot would be. "Don't suppose anyone's seen Vaeli?" she asks, wrapping hers around herself. "I've got one for each of Esprit, but strangely she's not been around to collect hers. At any rate, let us know where you want us, Marond."

Ashli grins and waves at Sylara, "Heyla, Sylara!" she calls brightly, sparing only a curious glance and another wave for Crihan, not recognizing him. Ash catches the bundle almost as an afterthought, tossing out her arms and blinking as she shakes hers out. A soft snicker escapes her, and she eyes Pyrene, almost as if to make sure the woman is really going to make her wear it...though years of being a weyrbrat and frightened of Pyrene seem to take hold, and the girl obediently slips on the smock, though another soft giggle accompanies this as she glances down at it. "Vaeli? Not today..." she replies slowly, though the girl grins again and murmurs as an aside to Sylara, "And with these lovely items, I surely hope she stays hidden."

The overseer of the day's activities is currently elbow-deep in the steamy mass of washing. Black hair is slicked back in an efficient ponytail-- slicked with steam and sweat. The baths are packed tight, barely room for one to move soundly as laundry workers shout orders or discuss fast and soft, things of a flea nature with Marond. As Pyrene and Ashli appear, a small bubble of space conforms to their walking; a plus for being one of rank. As the goldriders appear-- effectively parting the peopled waters, Marond takes the opportunity to disentangle himself from his chores and ease towards their coming with a meaningful look at Pyrene. Long fingers curl in on themselves as he motions the WeyrWoman over with a curt half-bow and the cracking of disused joints. "I need you in the lower caverns as soon as this lot is washed. I wouldn't mind dragon transportation either, for those newly sanitized so they don't get re-infected by wandering back down to the as of yet, unclean bedding." The man's voice rasps as he gestures absently with one hand, muttering something of an aside to one of the workers before turning his attention back to Pyrene. "Have you picked out which caverns you'll be clearing out? I was studying that map you loaned and there were a few I marked..." A hide is dug from a pant pocket as dripping hands ease over creases and tap at each stylus-marked spot.

Pyrene dutifully cranes her neck to peer over at the map. "I am at your beck and call," she replies calmly. "Just point me in the direction you want me." And it's not many people she's given /that/ opening. "What did you want the dragons to do, exactly?" She shifts slightly, allowing a few people behind her to come to the front and receive their orders too. Equal opportunities for all!

Ashli glances around and seems vaguely bemused by the fact that a bubble of space has appeared around her, the young goldrider apparently still not quite used to that particular idea. In any case, Ash pipes up with a nod, "Isamath says that she'd be more than willing to transport people, as long as you tell her where, who, and when." she passes on this information, and notes as an afterthought, "As long as those people are sanitized. Isa has a huge dislike for fleas..." Ash quiets down again after this, however, moving to the side and waiting patiently for Pyrene or Marond to tell her what to do next, apparently knowing when she's more than outranked.

Crihan has disconnected.

Equal opportunities for all indeed, Marond has tasks for everyone. /Every/one. "Well, it would be nice to get those people and bedding that -are- clean, either away from the Weyr for a bit, or out of reach of those still infected. I was thinking the meadows?" Spindly fingers reach to the back of his neck, easing some of the sweat before scratching faintly at welts still present. "Or one of the upper weyrs, but with a group this side, the best bet is the meadows--" Turning towards Ashli, his lips thin as he recalls her task before-- "ah yes, and make it the upper tier of meadows? The hot springs are also in use up there for washing, so we shouldn't mesh the two." Now then, absently perusing his company, his gaze clings to Ashli in that calm, blank way of his. "Alright, young goldrider, I'll need your help in cleaning out this cavern right -here-." Map is shook near enough Ashli's nose to be readable-- or blurry-- considering the motion. One finger has pin-pointed the cavern in question before Marond's gaze burrows into his next victim. "You there!" Comes the thin, brittle voice-- drawing Sylara in for a task. "If you could get the next round of people and bedding from the caverns-- they've been ordered into shifts." Sylara gets a momentary sharp look. "You'll be in the last shift, I need your help around here."

Sylara looks at Marond. "I am here to help, as well. What would you like me to do, sir?" She asks. I guess its' cleaning now, and cleaning self later. That's more like it, because she hasn't been too bothered by fleas lately.

Ashli blinks at Marond, and nods slowly. "Upper tier of the meadows...all right. She says she can take four people, but where should she meet them?" the girl questions, grinning in a friendly manner, apparently unfazed by his closed-off demeanor. "That cavern right...there..." Ash wiggles her own head around a bit in an attempt to figure out just which cavern that is, before she apparently figures that she'll find it somehow, and she nods. "Where can I get a bucket, a mop, and a broom?" she asks as her next question. Apparently Ash is just full of questions today.

Pyrene tries to stifle a grin at Marond's didactic tone. "I take it I'm to play transport? I thought you wanted me on my knees scrubbing floors... I'll send a message to M'nty via Cadge and get him to order a wing or two down." Her eyes unfocus as she passes it on.

Cadgwith thinks to you, << I bespoke Minoyath with: Cadgwith splashes cheerfully through the mental link without so much as a knock. << They are cleaning. A wing of dragons is requested to move people up to the meadows. Can you oblige? >> She sounds very excited, but then, the dragons are usually excluded from spring cleaning and this may be her one chance to find out what it's like. >>

Auryn is but a blur in the steam, moving quietly in from the caverns.

Vaeli is but a blur in the steam, moving quietly in from the caverns.

Cadgwith senses Minoyath pulls up from a half-doze where he was enjoying the mental sunshine of napping with other dragons. << What? >> Is the first bit of the reply, not quite as sunny as Cadgwith's yet. << Ahh... certainly. Carting Weyrfolk? Mmmm... >> There's a moment of silence for the dragon to think and confer. << Would I be required to have a rider? >>

Areiah arrives, a billow of steam disappearing forward and aft.

As the milling crowds again bubble space around the newly-entered goldriders, Pyrene glances across the room to see who it is. Upon spotting Vaeli, her face hardens. "Well, well, well. Look who's deigned to emerge," she mutters scathingly. "Areiah, did you have to drag her down, or did she come of her own free will? Anyway, your Esprit smocks are hanging by the door. Do put them on and break them in. I'm hoping we'll have more chances to use them."

Marond's smile is uncomfortable at best, terrifying at worst. Lips thin to bloodless lines, crooked teeth protruding out as angled features draw and hagger in light of this new experience. "Pyrene, don't be silly, what sort of person would I be if I didn't take full advantage of this new position you put me in?" The smile is fleeting, and disappears as quickly as it came as he offers the map wholly to Ashli, with an appraising sniff. "Try not to lose the map, young'un, it belongs to your superior. "And a nod is tipped at Pyrene as he returns from his tangent. "Transport would be nice, but if you've got dragons to spare, there will be no reason why you can't multi-task. That cavern there needs to be thoroughly cleaned, and I can spare maybe twenty from the lot I have here, but the rest I need to keep things running smoothly." Steam causes Marond's eyes to twitch and tick as he points Sylara off towards the laundry. "Alright!" Is bellowed in his brittle-thin voice as heads turn in his direction. "All people and things currently washed, make your way to the central bowl! Do /not/ go back for anything, your things will be cleaned and brought to -you-." Clearing his voice with a hair-raising hack, Marond continues quietly. "Goldriders, if you'd send your dragons to the central bowl, I'd appreciate it." And off he scuttles, grabbing Sylara's wrist in the process and dragging her towards the now heaping pile of laundry and personal belongings. "Well don't just dawdle girl! Grab an armful, and go to the central bowl." Releasing Sylara into the mass of laundry women doing the same.

Ashli blinks at Marond again, but nods slowly. "I'll try my best." she promises, dark eyes dancing with laughter the girl seems to be containing quite well. Far be it from Ash to lose a map...or, perhaps Marond knows her quite well..."Isa's in the bowl." she comments, nodding again as she accepts the map and, glancing at which cavern she's been assigned to, traipses off towards said cavern, petite form moving easily through the mass of people.

Lis is but a blur in the steam, moving quietly in from the caverns.

Sylara blinks when she's grabbed. "Yessir." She stammers. "I will indeed." She walks out to the caverns laden, and wanders back in to the baths for the next load.

Vaeli looks fully intent on visiting the baths for a more luxurious reason. She hums a little tune as she pulls the tie from her hair. She pauses a moment, hand halfway from her head. Before she can make a run for it, the Weyrwoman spots her. "Bloody shells," is muttered under her breath, and she turns to Pyrene. "I was..busy. It looks like you have it all handled, Pyrene." The smocks are eyed, and her lip turns up slightly. "Nissionath is only happy to help. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll go check and see if she's in need of anything." She gives a nod to the others in the room before checking her escape route again.

Pert nose wrinkles distastefully at the indicated articles. "Tsh. I haven't dragged anyone anyplace in, oh, at least a sevenday," Areiah replies brightly, picking her way past the pools, and edging near the door. "So, uh. Smocks. Right." One small hand reaches out, examining the fabric, 'fore the 'rider rolls a shrug, plucking one up, and pulling it over her head. Like a trooper. "What're we doing, anyway?" She's a little behind -- but she'll follow Pyrene, anyway.

Auryn has had enough and slips back out of the baths, hopefully smelling better.

Lis peeks into the baths, certainly not expecting to see half the weyr in her. "Ah, scores. That was /today/?" she whines; 'that' referring to Marond's ambitious defleaing. Ignorance, naturally, can be pinned on suspicious activities that would keep her weyrbound.

"Oh, yes, I'd forgotten," Pyrene lies at the full pitch of her lungs so that it carries across the crowds. "M'nty said that you'd complained because you didn't want to scrub floors like the rest of us. May I ask why you consider yourself exempt from that, rider of Nissionath?" She folds her arms, foot tapping on the floor and her gaze leaving Vaeli only to catch Areiah's gaze with a jerk of her head towards Marond. He's the one giving orders.

Marond is directing, and so spares little attention to the newly arrived riders-- they have enough authority to deal with in Pyrene. As he grabs a handful of laundry and threads his way through the crowd he pauses by Lis to give her a once-over. "Alright, follow me to the bowl, and then back here, I'll explain on the way." Fingers clutch the laundry as he eases past the remaining people clogging the door with a jerk of his head towards Pyrene. He's too busy, ask her.

Marond has had enough and slips back out of the baths, hopefully smelling better.

Ashli nods brightly at Areiah as she passes, "Mornin', goldrider." she chirps as she heads towards the lower caverns, shifting her shoulders slightly to better position the slightly too-big smock upon her. Pyrene's voice is winced at, even though Ashli is not the target this time, and a sympathetic look is shot towards Vaeli, though the young rider can't quite seem to figure out a way to distract Py's attention from Vaeli other than a quick question, "Pyrene, this cavern I'm cleaning, quickest way to get to it is to go through the bowl, right?" Okay, okay, so it's not the best distraction, but it's the only one the girl could think up on short notice.

Said M'nty, of previous mention, pops in for a moment to peer about and snag an extra scrubby-brush, waving hello to Vaeli as he skedaddles out of there. He'd managed to anger Pyrene when he talked to her before. He salutes Pyrene, scuttling back out the door.

"Alright, then," Lis remarks after Marond, a bit more bemused than annoyed. For now. And out she goes.

Lis has had enough and slips back out of the baths, hopefully smelling better.

Gunwalloe> Marond steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.

Gunwalloe> Lis steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.

Gunwalloe> Auryn steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.

Vaeli cringes, then turns about. She gives a dark glare at the Weyrleader's short appearance, then folds her arms to regard Pyrene. Her mouth opens, then closes, then opens again, as if she's trying to come up with something to say. For the moment anyway, the feline has her tongue, so she simply sends a dead-girl-walking look at Ashli. "Well, Pyrene. It's just not fair." Now there's a good way to get skewered by Pyrene.

Gunwalloe> A crowd of dozens mill in the bowl, waiting for their transportations with mild grumbles as they stalk about with laundry in hand. Women and men alike are seen scurrying to and fro with their own bundles, depositing them on the unwary as weyrlings begin spiraling down and various things are mounted and flown to the meadows. "Alright, Lis, is it?" Marond's voice cracks faintly with all the strain as he points at the group of people wandering around at random. "You seem capable enough." High praise from the sickly looking creature. "I need you and /you/," and this time, Auryn is nabbed before she can get a word in edgewise, "to get these people and things into some sort of order. They need to all be transported to the meadows, along with their belongings. As soon as they are gone, meet me back in the baths." And his bundle is tossed in Lis's direction as he is dragged aside by a young woman who talked in quiet urgency as she leads him back the way he came.

Gunwalloe> Isamath peers around curiously, lowering her head occasionally to whuff at a wandering weyr resident. The gold shifts her position occasionally, fanning her wings out then snapping them back, apparently anxious to get out of the crush of people.

Goldrider? *Goldrider?* "I don't care how big your dragon is, young lady, I'm still your mother," Areiah calls, adding a huff, for good measure. Huff! Padded steps carry the little woman after Ashli, arms folding -- still awaiting instruction as she is, she'll loaf. For now, at least. "We're cleaning, aren't we?" 'lashes flutter, as expectant eyes flick 'tween the gathered gaggle. No good can come of this.

Gunwalloe> Auryn strolls out from the living caverns, with a scowl on her face. "Alright, what'm I supposed to do?" she asks in a surly voice, arms crossing her chest, her whole stance reeking of work-loathing. "Order?! Eh, like that can be so hard," she snorts, glancing at Lis. Why, of all the randy greenriders in the Weyr, did she get stuck with this one?

Pyrene clasps her hands over her heart. "It's not fair," she tells the crowd dramatically. "Oh, well, now I under--oh, wait. No, I don't." In Pyrene's book, you can never overuse sarcasm. "Would you be so kind as to explain it to all of us." And she waves her hand over the assembled, from drudges to crafters, from small brats to old aunties, all with some cleaning equipment in hand. While Vaeli ponders that one, Pyrene touches Areiah lightly on the shoulder. "We'll probably want a gold dragon out in the bowl--would you mind going down there with Ysbryth. Let Lis do the work--just make sure she's backed up." Areiah's certainly got the experience for it.

Sylara runs back in, empty-handed. She grabs another load, and scurries back out there. "Whew." She says, as she peers around the pillows in this load.

Gunwalloe> Lis absorbs this all with remarkable quickness, although the confusion never /quite/ leaves her face. "Well why didn't you tell them to go there in the first place?" she yells after a departing Marond, scowling at the group she's been left with - a scowl she doesn't hesitate to turn on Auryn. "Hush, you. The only thing /you've/ every led is a raid on my son's pants." Ahem. Pitching her voice higher, she calls - in her best authoritative fashion: "Alright you lot, mount up. I want everyone on a dragon, whether that means sitting behind a rider or hanging on for dear life. And all your junk, too!" the greenrider adds, waving the bundle placed in her arms.

Gunwalloe> Marond saunters to the Caverns.

Marond is but a blur in the steam, moving quietly in from the caverns.

Ashli shrugs at Vaeli, and mouths apologetically, "I tried?" Though, after this semi-apology, Ash gapes at Vaeli and raises up her hands in apparent defeat. Vae has now taken herself beyond the realm of a perhaps-Pyrene-distraction, and into the realm of true Pyrene anger. The girl's attention is snagged by Areiah, however, and she grins wryly, nodding slowly, "Yes, mother." she says, winking merrily. "Aye, that we are, getting rid of the fleas. Isamath has been having herself a veritable fit about all these fleas around, she's quite happy that today's 'cleaning-day'." Ash suddenly pauses for a moment, then continues with, "Isa's out in the bowl as well, Mom, and she's willing to help transport...will you, well, watch over her a bit? You know what I mean, right?" Ash tries to explain what she's saying with a self-deprecating shrug, apparently somewhat worried about Isa, friendly as she is, transporting people without Ash there. "I've got to head to the lower caverns..."

Gunwalloe> Auryn decides to ignore Lis' primitive jabs, and instead strides authoratively towards the nearest dragon. "Come on, mount up! Gimme your stuff and I'll hand it up to you," she instructs the nearest people, including a frightened-looking woman. "What, you never rode a dragon before? You live in a Weyr, you know they won't eatcha!" Maybe. "Well, go on, make yourself a little flatter so they can get up," she instructs the nearest dragon - whoever that might be.

Gunwalloe> Isamath stills her fidgeting and calmly squishes herself a bit closer to the ground, though the tip of her tail lashes a bit, somewhat nervously. Large eyes whirl calmly, however, and her foreleg is offered to whomever chooses to avail themself of it, the gold looking around curiously to see whether or not anyone will take her up on her apparent offer of transportation.

Marond re-appears, looking more or less smug about something. Smugness is replaced by mild surprise edging on irritation as he pushes his way through the out-going crowds. "You're all still here?" Goldriders are swept into one look as he sighs, spindly fingers easing across his temples in a show of hard-won patience. "Alright, those of you in smocks, follow me to the lower caverns, I have to get the next bath of people and things as it is. I'll point you in the right direction." Voice cracks once, twice, followed by another hacking cough. Waving people aside with a faint mutter of how he needs to get himself a goldrider's knot for the benefits of moving masses, he cranes his pale neck around to view the bickering Weyrwomen. Well?

Areiah preens. She's Experienced. Chin tilts, infinitely dignified, and nothing is said of the unfairness of it all; She Has Work To Do. Slender shoulders are squared, and the small brunette drops a nod to Pyrene, 'fore looking back to Ashli with a beaming grin. "I know just what you mean, kiddo. I'll keep an eye out." A pause, a skyward roll of sapphire eyes, and a put-upon little sigh. "All right, all right, keep your tail on, I'm coming..." With that, she slips out, making for the bowl. Muah.

Areiah has had enough and slips back out of the baths, hopefully smelling better.

Gunwalloe> Areiah steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.
Gunwalloe> Ysbryth slips down from a large, low-lying ledge just above.

Gunwalloe> Lis lets Auryn handle the move on the micro scale, stepping back to observe the dragon and rider pairs, making sure no one's giving anyone a hard time, and no one is /having/ a hard time getting up. Except one fat girl who isn't doing much in the way of helping the rider hauling her aboard. With little hesitation, the greenrider gets her shoulder under the girl's copius rear-end and shoves upward. Problem solved.

Ashli smiles in a relieved fashion as Areiah agrees to 'watch over' Isamath, and the girl flicks a glance at Marond curiously, grinning as she informs him, "I was just leaving." And off she goes! Ash bounces off towards the lower caverns, map clutched in her hands as she goes.

Ashli has had enough and slips back out of the baths, hopefully smelling better.

Vaeli places her hand against the wall and leans her weight into it, looking down the whole time. After a few moments, she looks back up defensively. "It's not fair because it's not our," her hand points at the assembled goldriders, "job to manually clean the entire lower half of the weyr. It's theirs." She points at the drudges running about. After a moment, she points at Ashli as she bounds out of the room. "She agrees." Vaeli eyes Marond a minute, weighing her options.

Gunwalloe> Auryn peers up at Isamath. "Thanks. You're not very small as it is, you know." She gestures to the woman. "Go on, she won't bite! Will you, Isamath?" The woman squeals, but manages to climb up the gold's shoulder. "Here's your stuff!" She hands up the bundle. "Uhm, Lis..." She turns to face the greenrider. "Where're they going?"

Gunwalloe> Isamath whuffs in a friendly manner, the draconic equivalent of laughter coming from her throat at Auryn's words. As the woman mounts with no further ado, Isa swings her head to the side and pierces Auryn with an imperious glance, almost as if asking, 'well, is she /all/ I get?'.

Pyrene waves from the drudges to the various other people in the room. "It is not the job of half the people here to clean the weyr, yet they have come. Why? Because this is too big a bloody job for the drudges. Vaeli, you are young, pretty and you are one of perhaps 30 women in all Pern who is partnered to a gold dragon. You have enough perfection in your life to stand a little floor-scrubbing." She breaks off to dip her head politely to Marond, Sylara and everybody else close enough. "Forgive the manners of my wing. I have obviously been too lenient on them."

One spider-thin brow begins raising, and the look Vaeli gets is one of the utmost calm-- barely covering the inner seething of an unsocial man, already spread thin as it is. "You -will- clean the lower caverns because your position marks you as someone who is capable of handling their Weyr. Of course, if you never want to communicate with the people who live here and don't ride dragons, feel free to leave, though I was under the impression--" thin voice betrays none of his anger, though pale eyes continue to slowly narrow-- "that the entitlement of a Goldrider was not simply one of lording above the masses while complaining about the infestations that mar your reputation." That said, Marond snarls faintly as he jerks his head towards Pyrene, looking for some sort of support. At Pyrene's words, Marond grunts, appearently satisfied. "Follow me, then."

Gunwalloe> "Meadows," Lis barks back to Auryn tersely. "And load Isamath up more. She's a gold, after all." Although the ignominy of a gold as a pack-horse isn't lost on Lis.

Sylara is a scurryin' back and forth, and the pile of laundry gets smaller as she keeps at it. She overhears the Weyrwoman's apology, and blinks. Wow. She says nothing, though, as she just keeps moving laundry.

Gunwalloe> Auryn misinterprets Isamath's gesture, and she stagewhispers, "hey, I think she's silly, too!", causing the woman to huff and buff and talk about rude youngsters. "Thanks," she snaps back at Lis. "And I'm trying to! Stupid people are afraid of her." That statement makes five people rush forward at once, determined to prove that they're so not afraid of any dragon. "What's happening at the meadows?"

Sylara has had enough and slips back out of the baths, hopefully smelling better.

Gunwalloe> Sylara steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.

Gunwalloe> Sylara brings out another load of laundry and hands it off to someone else for carrying. "Here." She says, carting enough whites and such to almost cover her view. She scurries back in for another load, narrowly missing a kid or two who have scampered across her path.

Gunwalloe> "I don't know, I'm just supposed to get them there," Lis calls over her shoulder at Auryn, quickening her pace to a jog as she makes sure everyone and their mother and their kitchen sink is mounted and secured, however precariously - even the crowd near Isamath0. "Alright! Everyone up!" she bellows, lifting her fist in the unmistakable signal for flight.

"You think I'm pretty?" A tiny quirky smile tugs at the corners of Vaeli's lips, but then quickly vanishes, considering the argument, and flaps her hand to dismiss the question. "It's not the work in general, Pyrene. I can clean my own dishes. It's that floor scrubbing. And the flea cleaning." She stares at the Weyrwoman, obviously not seeing her point, then cocks her head as Marond gives orders. "I do communicate with the people of my weyr. I don't mind helping the people of my weyr. But I don't appreciate having everyone sit back on their heels while the higher ups perform duties outside of their criteria. And I must note, I have yet to complain publically about this flea infestation that obviously spawned in -your- section of the weyr."

Gunwalloe> Auryn jumps to Isamath's back as the last person up, waiting for the gold to follow the others to the meadows.

Gunwalloe> Auryn abandons the bowl for ground weyr's shelter.
Gunwalloe> [OOC:] Lis is sending people to the meadows, as per Marond's order. So if you've got dragon, take it there. If not, use the shortcut. ;>
Gunwalloe> [OOC:] Lis runs to Marond now.
Gunwalloe> Lis ambles aimlessly to the Caverns.

Lis is but a blur in the steam, moving quietly in from the caverns.

Lis comes jogging in from the outside of the weyr, having wended her way through the caverns at such a high speed that she's flushed from the effort. "They're at the meadows," she calls to Marond.

Pyrene actually gasps in shock. "/Who/ is sitting back on their heels?" she fairly screeches at Vaeli. "Go on, look around you. Point out to me one single person who is sitting back and letting somebody else do the work." Actually, it's quite likely that most people are stopping to watch the spectacle, but one can't have everything. "Good Faranth, what's the world coming to when I'm forced to hope that the untested Ashli will be my eventual successor." Scorn and contempt drip from her tone, and she turns away from Vaeli and pushes through the crowds, following Marond and letting the weyrfolk add their own comments to Vaeli or follow Marond themselves at will.

Marond looks momentarily relieved at having Lis, his sudden beacon of sanity, here for the ordering. "Fantastic, thank you, for your timeliness and obvious pull of authority, I will leave it up to you whether you'd like to remain in charge of the laundry and people, or go to the lower caverns and help clean them out with the Espirit Wing and residents able to be spared." No mention is made of Vaeli's disgrace, but his eyes trickle toward her regardless and he falls into step with Pyrene, disappearing into the thinning crowds as they make for the caverns.
Marond has had enough and slips back out of the baths, hopefully smelling better.

Gunwalloe> Sylara huffs back out with the last load. "I think that's it for now." She says, shrugging. "I guess I'll go help scrub." She says, passing the load off and heading inside.
Gunwalloe> Sylara meanders to the Caverns.

Pushing aside the heavy, dark, well-used canvas, you head into the Dorms.

Resident Dorms
'Reach's bold, starlit blue has faded to a gentle blend of varying hues along the walls of these interlinked caverns, the Crafting area's each marked with the color of their origin along with the clutter that accompanies the various Weyr-crafters. But dorms are dorms, and tidy rows of cots march in an orderly fashion along every available space, their panoply of coverlets softly lit by well-tended glows.
You see Sakkrin, Lavinue, Jycarl, Sukonku, Isadore, Aslin, Tyara, Crihan, Marond, Auryn, Vaeli, Lis, Sylara, and Pyrene here.
Checking for firelizards, you notice Maksim, Nina, Aria Moon, Evil Incarnate [AKA Sarrol] Brown Hatchling, Daerk, Draek, Funny, Fidget, Smirk, Nuri, Sapphire Don, and Cyanide cot-huddled.
You see Aspen and Auryn's Tech-Toaster. You see 12 cots.
And the gentle snores of 47 sleeping people are heard.
Obvious exits:
Caverns

Lis isn't sure she wants to be in the middle of an inter-wing struggle between goldriders, but she follows the flow of people into the dorms, mainly seeking out Marond.

Sylara sighs, as she enters her dorms. She glances around for cleaning supplies, and frowns. "Hey, where are the buckets and stuff? I'm ready to help."

Pyrene helps to strip beds of their bedding, joining the groups piling it by the door for children to carry to the baths for cleaning. However, she allows the burlier members of the Weyr to move the cots to one side of the room so that the rugs can be taken up for the floor-scrubbing. "Pick up those rugs first--Marond's gone to organise buckets for us," she tells Sylara.

Desba steps in as the heavy canvas falls shut behind her.

Gunwalloe> Isamath looks quite pleased at finally having enough people on her back, and with a graceful leap, large wings strain to go up, up and...to the meadows! Large wings tilt to the side as the gold swoops towards the meadows, the young gold obviously enjoying this, as the people on her back cling on for dear life...

Gunwalloe> Isamath takes off.

Ashli steps in as the heavy canvas falls shut behind her.

Ashli meanders in, looking thoroughly dusty. Dark curls escape from her kerchief, poinging around her face like live beings. Dark eyes look thoroughly pleased with herself, however, and a dirty rag is tossed over her shoulder. A new tear makes its home in her faded blue tunic, and the girl waves, albeit somewhat tiredly, "'lo, all."

Desba comes in behind Ashli, though not with her, she spots the tear and shakes her head, "Don't go between in that thing, unless you fix it or put something over it." After that she looks around and nods to all those gathered, "Alright then, what do I do?"

Vaeli trails in after several minutes, muttering the entire way. She stops to one side, staying out of the workers' way. "Ashli, tell Pyrene I'm not completely out of my mind. You just agreed with me last night about being worked too hard. Go on." Or Vae just might be sincerely outnumbered.

Lis pitches in with the rest of the second-burliest weyrfolk, rolling up rugs - breeding grounds for fleas, no doubt! - to bare the floor. "If someone'll give me a hand, we can get this rug to... uh. Wherever it's supposed go." Lis sure as sand doesn't know.

Sylara nods. "Sure thing, ma'am." She walks over to the nearest rug, and begins rolling it up. It feels good to do some serious cleaning, especially if it means getting rid of those dratted fleas. She has an opinion on the disagreement (as she sees it), but she keeps said opinion to herself. It might be showing in her expression, though. "We'll take 'em to the baths to wash, I think is what he said" she says to Lis.

Ashli blinks at Vaeli and nods at Pyrene. "Vaeli isn't completely out of her mind." Look, look, isn't she a good little junior weyrwoman? Upon hearing Vaeli's next comment, however, Ash shoots an evil-death-glare at Vaeli, and steels herself for Py's response to that, though she quickly defends herself with, "But Isa thinks this cleaning is absolutely wonderful, and it's our duty to the weyr and the weyrfolk, and Esprit wing should be seen more and be more active." Yes, yes, what Isa thinks will surely drag Ash out of any trouble. The girl's hands, however, are loaded down with two buckets, empty at the moment, a reasonably clean rag poking its little self out of the edge of one of them.

Pyrene takes one of Ashli's buckets and fixes her with an eagle eye. "Do you think cleaning is beneath you, Ashli?" The youngest member of Esprit can decide which one of her elders she can please. No pressure at all. As it is, the reluctance of her juniors to get their hands dirty is helping Pyrene greatly in getting her own stuck in. Indeed one hand swoops into the water and pulls out the scrubbing brush with a flourish that sends suds flying. Pyrene endeavours to make that look intentional.

Ashli eyes Pyrene and rolls her eyes, choosing to use some of Py's own sarcasm in her response. "Yes, Pyrene, I do. Which is precisely why I clean my weyr every other day, and clean the Quiet Corners once a sevenday, and take two baths a day. Exactly so, weyrwoman." Ash replies, putting down the other of her buckets and tossing up her hands helplessly. The ex-weyrbrat doesn't seem to envision that her sarcasm may get her into trouble, oh no, Ash seems to be thinking purely in the present at the moment. "So, what next? Should I scrub, or dust?" she tosses out, previous anger as quickly forgotten as it had appeared.

Desba looks over at the arguing Espirit members but doesn't make a comment unless shaking your head is a comment and then she goes over to Sylara and begins to pull rugs too, rolling them. "This isn't so bad, and it's better than hiding in my weyr." Was that a remark at the Espirit wing? From Desba. No.

Vaeli looks somewhat smug at having been agreed with, then returns Ashli's glare with shrug of her shoulders, mouthing 'Well, you did'. The goldrider folds her arms with a reluctant glare, then fiddles with the smock that is partly tucked in a back pocket. She squints her eyes at Desba, assuming that the comment was directed towards the senior weyrwoman in regards to Pyrene's holing up prior to her own infestation. "Does that mean I'm excused, Pyrene, to go about my day, then?"

"If you don't think cleaning is beneath you, then you can explain to me /later/ why you see fit to attempt to defend Vaeli. Now scrub," Pyrene tells Ashli firmly. "Same goes for you, Vaeli. Dusting won't get rid of any fleas." She nods gratefully to Sylara as a rug is scooted out of her way and then drops to her knees with only a swift, suspicious look shot at Desba for her comment. She bites her lips against further speech though and starts scrubbing.

"Alright, then," Lis nods to Sylara, grabbing one end of the rug and starting to haul it away. Large rug, small rider, but it does slide inevitably toward the edge of the dorms.

Sylara nods, and chuckles. "That's true." She says, in reply to the comment from Desba. She lifts her end of the rug, and helps cart it out of the room. She's back soon, though.

Ashli returns Vaeli's mouthing with a roll of her eyes, though a wry grin accompanies this, as if Ashli's silently saying 'well, you're not supposed to tell her that...but, no worries'. Ashli's own smock has apparently been lost in the shuffle...or, more likely, it is the friendly rag that's poking out of one of her buckets. She has a good excuse ready in case Pyrene asks, though. Didn't want to get it dirty, you know. Or ripped. "It's a date." she notes with a wry wink and a smile to Pyrene, then grabs a scrubby-brush and plops herself in a corner, concentrating on scrubbing just about anything in that corner.

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